UK: Tulley's sunflower farm
I read somewhere... how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong... but to feel strong. For me this has been the case during the month of September for the past four years since I lost my Father.
Birthdays and Christmases are hard too, but then again so are ordinary good/bad days where all you want to do is call your Father to tell him all about it, but you can’t. September is when the wounds open up deeper than any other time and the scars I carry become more apparent. A month that marks Father’s day and the anniversary of my Father’s passing only days within one another.
The month where I spend most of my time reminiscing about bittersweet memories like fishing with my father upon unsteady rocks that hug the shore in my hometown growing up. Or the early mornings he would awake me to take me on driving lessons, teaching me and imparting me to the rights and wrongs of my everyday.
I am far far away from home this year due to my travels. With a whole ocean separating me from my loved ones, I knew this year would be particularly hard. But if I have learned anything, it is that — if I am able to find light even during the darkest day, this is when I feel the most alive.
Weeks leading up to my Father’s anniversary, Kieran had been asking me how I would like to spend the day. Not a day goes pass where he doesn’t give me this look as if to say I am what he cares for most in this whole entire world — a look that fills me with comfort and love like no other. I said to him ‘Just take me somewhere beautiful.’ And so we spent the entire day at a magical place called Tulleys Farm.
I spent the morning playing around a field of sun-kissed sunflowers. The buds were almost as tall as me, soaring high towards the clear blue skies. We then found a cornfield maze to wander around in for hours on end, getting lost and adventuring about under the blazing sun. The heat was so pleasant that day you could hardly tell that summer was almost coming to an end. Before the sun went to sleep, we headed to a PYO field where I got to pick my own blackberries. The berries were juicy and bitter, even days after our fingers were still marked with rosy red stains.
Looking back on that day, it seems like I felt nothing but happiness. I feel like a survivor. Like I have added yet another layer of skin on my bruised soul and that I am ready to take on anything. And now that yet another September has passed me by, I can sit and reflect back on how magical this year has been for me. I can’t help but wish it would never end. With three more months to come, I just know that thing are only going to get better and better.