Julia HARRISON Memoriam

Nine years and counting, my dear Julia.
I'll keep it brief this year. No changes since last year; well, except that Emma is now 16 and living with me since last August. We talk about you more now that she's older. I'm sure Claire will be doing the same soon, but at 12 she may not be ready. Likewise Madi, who is less impacted.
Anyway, brief! Love to you always and we keep you in our hearts wherever we are, whatever we do.
Wishing this reality was a dream but we cope as best we can. I attended a Hope march at Mission Bay last month - another way to remember.
Missing you. Dad xxx

Eight Years On, and still wishing you were here, my girl.
Understand, I will keep doing this until some untimely accident, great or small, interferes; the dissembling of memory, the shock of stroke or heart interrupting the flow of thought and action.
I am living with your absence, grudgingly. I chat away as if you are nearby, and talk more openly with Emma about your life and she reads your diaries now when you, too, were 15 going on 16. Time has come 'round and it occurs to me she will catch up to you now and pass you by. And Claire, too. And Madison.
Let's not dwell on sadness - it's always hovering, hand in hand with regret.
Time to grab hold of those happier memories now, give them a chance to be felt and relived.
I carry you with me, everywhere I go.
Again, dear Julia, all my love to you, Dad xxxxx

07 May, 2023
SEVEN YEARS now my dear Julia.
Hard to believe - I didn't think I was going to last this long without you. The ache of loss has become manageable for the most part, though it can still hit me with a force and leave me back at the beginning with a sense of futility and panic.
Emma is feeling in a similar way, made worse by her now entering her early teen years, which are confusing enough. And Claire is angry - probably over a number of things, but we don't get to be with her enough to know exactly what. We miss you and could do with you being here right now.
I'll keep it short, this year, Bunny. I miss you every day and that feeling doesn't change; I still want to see you walk through our front door as you once did, still want to give you a big hug. Love you heaps, Julia and really wish you were back here with us, my beautiful girl.
xxxxxxx forever, Dad.

Six years! And the calendar has come around to the exact sequence of days as 2016. I find myself counting off each day and trying to remember the flow of events. A lot of people were in and around the ICU, I know that. Everyone was there that could be, honey. Even Kevin was given permission to be out for a couple of hours. Lina was there, too. And your girls.
Today is a beautiful day. It´s warm with a cooling breeze. There is a Tui singing outside my bedroom window. It´s generally quiet. Five days to go before we commemorate your funeral.
Emma called me this morning to remind me it was your anniversary. She misses you, as does Claire. It´s been a rough ride for both of them, Claire in particular, being more isolated from her sister. I´m hoping when she´s older she´ll be able to process things more easily or at least more accurately.
I know you thought you were doing us all a favour, Julia, but I´d rather you were still here, blemishes and all. We all do. We miss you like crazy. I said it last year and I´ll say it every year as long as I´m alive myself. I miss you, love you, you were the brightest light in my life.
On behalf of everyone who cared for you; love always, Dad xxxx

2021... Hi Julia. Five years have gone by already, my dear girl. Soon you would be turning thirty years of age and no doubt already planning a big party. Wish that were so. Chonie has a luncheon organised for you today, so some of your nearest friends will gather to commemorate your absence... I will not be attending. You know me, dear, old Eeyore!
I miss you every day, Julia, and that's something that won't change. The rawness of your loss has eased but the ache remains. Love always, honey. Dad.

2020... How have four years passed since you left us. Nothing has changed for me since I posted the first message here in 2017, except that the feelings of loss and emptiness have not receded but seem to be ever more sharp as time goes by. There are smiles amid the sadness as I remember little moments down the years. They pop into my head, unbidden, to surprise me. I like to think it's you, nudging me a little, saying, Remember this one? And of course, the moment suddenly is clear as crystal... Love you, always, Julia, and I'm still waiting for you to come through the door. Your room is still waiting, too.... Dad xxx

The year has rolled around again Julia, though really you're never out of my thoughts. Three years on, now, and your absence is stiil as intense as ever. I don't know what move on means. I reject it. Emma and Claire are doing well, though I don't see Claire too often. Their presence and your memory keeps me going.
Love you always, Honey Bunny
Dad xxxx

Rip Julia

This evening I lit candles around the house for you, Julia. I don't know what else to do. I'm retracing events of two years ago but they're all out of step. It's nearly 4.00am so it's still twelve hours, fourteen minutes away from when you left us. I still have the anniversary of your funeral to come! I've run out of words this year. I just wish you were here; sad and a bit angry with you that you're not. I love you my dear girl. Missing you.
Dad xxx

RIP beautiful Julia xx