Dear Dad,

I miss you so much. I can’t even begin to express how much. I know we were close, and I know how I depended upon your wisdom and advice, but nothing could have prepared me for the void in my life, even nearly five years on that has been left in your absence.

I want to apologise. When you were lying in the hospital bed, becoming increasingly weary, I released you to leave us if you were ready. I know Dave disagreed and was begging you to stay, but I felt at the time he could only see his needs, not yours. And when I told you it was ok to go, I promised you I would take care of Dave, and not to worry about him.

I’m sorry that the only way I could look after him was to make sure your will was executed fairly and as you wished. He made that hard enough, but he made it impossible for me to do anymore for him. I will not stand by and have abuse directed at me, and Chris, for following your wishes.

I had to do something you and mum had always shied away from; I had to stand up to Dave even though it made me unpopular. Even though he kicked off. I refused to tiptoe around him for fear of the fallout any longer.

When he failed to coerce me into doing what he wanted, he pulled out every kind of lie, emotional blackmail and verbal abuse. While I still find it upsetting that he could be like that, I don’t hate him. Don’t get me wrong, I have no desire to be in the same room as him anytime soon, but I don’t hold a grudge. He’s the one who’s alienated friends and family who once cared for him, not me. His need to prove his point has lost him his only sibling.

I actually hope that owning his flat makes him happier. But I feel like it won’t. His misery comes from within because he’s too busy blaming others for his problems to actually address his disordered personality.

Anyway, I’m so thankful to you for the way my inheritance has improved my life. A car for Chris. A car for Martin. And an amazing motorhome so we can holiday wherever. Refitted bathroom, new kitchen appliances, new bed, new wardrobes, new carpets. And we have a gorgeous kitty cat who looks quite a bit like Tiffy. Sometimes when I’m sat of an evening with her on my lap I think how I must look like mum and Tiffy. She makes me so happy. As does Martin. And Chris goes from strength to strength. You’d be so proud of him. He’s grown into an incredible young man.

And when I have a low day, as inevitably I do, I drink my tea from the penguin mug you gave me and cuddle Ian. And I remember that even though you’re not here in person, you’re still always with me. And there won’t be a day goes by that I won’t miss you, but I’m stronger because you were my dad.

Love and hugs,

Julie xxx