Letter 22

25^th June 2014

Dear Catherine,

Every time I think about you, and I do every day at least every day, mostly unexpectedly something brings you to memory, like seeing a dad with his daughter or hearing some bad news about a young girl, I can never imagine what you must think about me.  Even if you do think about me, I dread to imagine you might do so with hate or disgust.  So I don’t go there, it would be too hurtful for words.  So I imagine you as you were when we used spend time together; going to Sainsbury’s on Saturday mornings for breakfast.  We walked at first over the bridge on the main Euston line, stopping to wave at the driver, who sometimes beeped back.  Can you remember that? Or learning to cycle in the park; you were determined to master the balance, which didn’t take very long if I remember.  Or swimming in the Hill Club; I think you enjoyed this initially, but got a bit bored with it!  Or skiing in Vysoke, coming up the ski tow by yourself eventually, again determined to get the hang of it.  Or spending a day at work with me here; people still ask after you and are a bit shocked I tell them I don’t see you now.  Do you remember?  Maybe you have blanked these things out of your memory and let some different feelings take over.  Whatever your feelings, I respect them, as I always did.  Because I love you with my whole heart without any qualifications, I always did and I always will.  I have missed a big chunk of your life from age nearly 12 to the 17 you are now.  It is such an unnatural state of affairs, for a father and daughter not to communicate, but it is real and you are there, somewhere and I am here, not in hiding always available and hoping, some miracle will happen and I will get to see you again and share the love I have for you.  Your cousin Gregor, who you haven’t seen for the same length of time, but who I know you loved, is getting married in Hampshire n October, to a lovely girl called Ekua who he met here in London three years ago through the Royal College of Art.  Remember that time we went to visit him there.  He wanted to invite you to go there with him and show you around, possibly to inspire you about Art and the ambiance of the place.  But it never happened for some reason, and we separated, for some reason.  He would love to see you to show you the College of Art and he would love you to attend his wedding.  Maybe these ideas will all drift into space with no response or comprehension of why.  So many opportunities are missing from our lives, but I always pray that someday, soon, we will have a resolution & reconciliation.

With all my love for now,

dad  xxx                                                                           at work