What is my anger telling me?

What is my anger telling me?

More than two years ago my father died.  His death was the long slow decline of old age.  It was as if over time his body gradually stopped working.  Over the years and months, we sat with him, shared stories with him, cared for him as the end came closer. 

He planned his funeral nominating music and the party that would follow.  We talked about how he wanted Mum to be looked after. 

But we never talked about how much we would miss each other.  Instead we argued! 

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Memories ... the last dance...

Memories ... the last dance...

I have a distinct memory from when I was quite little…dancing with my Dad after dinner.  I was probably 3 or 4 years old, and after dinner each night, my father would put on the record player and teach me to dance.  My Dad was an older father, so the music was not of the time, but of his youth and he taught me how to waltz, to foxtrot and later how to jive. 

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