LHB Blog

A girl, a blog and a cactus named Pudding

I don’t know how to say goodbye

**I’m not sure if this needs a trigger warning but as I’m talking about Cancer I kinda feel like there should be one!**

Alternative title: My family missed the New Years celebrations; there was no Auld Lang Syne, no clinking of drinks (alcoholic or otherwise), we saw no fireworks … But there was much holding onto one another. And even more tears. You see, we didn’t get as long as we thought we would … And my dad took his final breath at 6pm on New Years Eve. 

I wish I could put into words how I feel … But I can’t seem to manage it. I can’t seem to piece together the right combination to convey exactly how painful this is. My heart is heavy, it is broken beyond all repair …

As others entered 2017 with hopes and dreams … I awoke the morning of January 1st in a state of mourning. I awoke the morning of January 1st to a new reality … One I still don’t want to accept. I awoke knowing that my father had gone.

If you’ve been following the posts on LHB you’ll know that we didn’t get long at all once dad had received the cancer diagnosis … In a way we were lucky; we got one final Christmas (in which he got some fluffy Minions pj’s – probably best not to ask), we got to be with him as he stopped breathing (to hold his hand) and we knew he didn’t suffer. He wasn’t in pain.

These are the things I’m trying to cling onto … Those little memories of shared smiles, of in jokes, of silly nicknames, of music we loved to compare, of being there when he needed us to be … Of my bond with my dad. Because I’m scared that if I don’t cling onto these happier / positive things, I will become consumed by the things that we won’t get a chance to share … Or say.

I miss him … And those 3 words just don’t show the gravity of it. I would trade everything I have, everything I am, for one more hug from my dad. Just one. To just breathe him in. But that isn’t how things work, we don’t get these opportunities, there is no negotiations to be had … Because we have run out of the time we had allocated.

And that time was short.

So short.

He was 57 years old.


I don't know how to say goodbye | LHB Blog

“I will always wear this scar. It’s called love” – Wylie R. Weeks 💔 (Pic is from my Insta)


So here is your reminder to tell those you love that you love them! Don’t waste time because it is so freaking precious and none of us know just how long we have.

Much peace and love,

R x

PS – If you (or someone you know) has been (or is being) affected by Cancer, then I can highly recommend Macmillan – they are amazing folks! They have been such a brilliant source of support and advice from the moment we heard the diagnosis and I owe them a HUGE thank you for everything they did for us.


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  1. I am terribly sorry for your loss.

  2. Kat

    I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s a very hard time of year for those grieving especially. #PoCoLo

  3. Oh hunny, sending much love. This is though a beautiful post and he’d be so proud of you I’m sure. Thanks for sharing with #PoCoLo sending love and hugs your way X

    • Ruebi

      I seem to be all about the hugs at the moment, so thank you Stephanie! ((hugs)) x

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