I just wanted to come on and talk a little about my Dad, and share a lot of the thoughts and memories that have been coming up for me a lot. I’m in a strange part of grief right now, I feel very numb. The tears have stopped and I just can’t get Dad out my mind.
My Dad’s name is George James Watt and was born on the 12th of March, 1955. He was 64. Dad grew up with my late Grandfather also George Watt, my Grandmother Mary Watt who’s 85 and my aunt Colleen Mckenzie who just turned 62. My Grandfather was a Whaler, and used to be away on the boat sailing places like South Georgia for months, years at a time. In fact Grandad was away whaling when Dad was born and didn’t meet him for a few months after. I recall one story Dad told me about Grandad being away for 18months, and before he came on shore, Grandma told him to ‘get back on that boat and get that horrid beard off, or you’re not getting home!’ Grandad did as he was told though, as he always did. Unfortunately we lost my Granda to cancer 6 years ago. I try to think they’re back together now.
They moved around a couple of times, Grandma always being a stay at home Mum. When Dad was in school, he was very artistic, articulate and was amazing at everything he did. He could’ve been a famous footballer if Dad had chose that path, but he didn’t like the Manager so trained to be an Electrician instead. He went on to become an Approved Electrician. That was a proud day for him. Dad was a biker and got his first bike at 17. He was in a motorbike gang called the Half Breeds back in the 70’s. I wore his colours on a motorbike Herse at his service, I could feel him beaming down on me, my hero. He had a few different jobs, a stint offshore but ended up on benefits due to heath issues. My Dad used to say he was a ‘rebel without a cause.’ He smoked a lot of pot, lol. He was always very open with me. In fact it’s something we used to enjoy together. Very unconventional we were but I wouldn’t have it any other way, it’s what made our relationship so so special.
He’d had a couple girlfriends, even proposed to one which sadly now I’m wearing the ring. All that changed when Dad met Trish when he was 21, she was the one that got away and he never ever got over her. Of course there were other ladies in his life but none compared to her. I’m kind of glad they never worked tbh or else Dad would’ve never had me! Dad has also said this before too but when you get your heart broken, you never get over it as I’m very horribly experiencing and will carry this pain for the rest of my life.
Dad had loads of loyal friends, that was proven at his service. All those ‘fuddy duddy al bikers’ as Dad called them, showing up and riding with me and Dad on our last ride meant the world to us. Dads friends were all so good to me, I’ve had a lot of support from them. I have lovely memories of them too, playing lots of Nintendo 64 or playing games of chess or battleship or Crib!!
When I came along, it was clear my Dad fell in love with me. I have so many loving photos where you can just see the love pouring out of us. He used to tie me to him on his motorbike with a bungee grip and we used to go for so many camping trips. I was never scared and there were never any accidents, despite me being on the bike since I was 4!
he really did the best for me, I never ever doubted his love for me. Dad was a fairly healthy man for being a heavy smoker. He was tall, slim ‘canna fatten a thoroughbread’ is what he used to say, he was very tanned too, big bright blue eyes, long nose, sculpted face. Very handsome in his prime! I can still see him now sunbathing himself in his backy, shirt off, trousers rolled up to hot pants with his Amber Solaire oil on. I’d do anything to have another day with him. Tragedy striked on my 18th birthday when he was diagnosed with COPD. I really had no idea for what was gonna come. I remember his very first breathing attack. I was over for the weekend. Dad lived in a bed sit, I slept on the sofa and Dad usually made a bed out of pillows on the floor in front of the coal fire. I woke up for the toilet to find Dad gasping for breath in the communal hallway, almost outside. It was awful. I was to see a lot more of them in the years to follow. 9 more years of them. I knew Dad was suffering but he always put on a brave face for me. I’ve seen him get so many treatments at hospital, big fat needles right into his stomach! Needles are a huge phobia of mine, and he used to always try make me feel better about it. It’s funny, I’ve stated I haven’t cried for ages but as I’ve been writing this, the tears are falling hard. I miss my dad so so much 
since he’s been gone, I’ve really just sat and treasured how good our relationship was. How different he was and how good he was to me. He used to pick me up from school on the motorbike, every Wednesday. In fact, he just used to pick me up and take me anywhere that I needed. I just had to pick up the phone and he’d drop anything he was doing and be there for me. I’m so sad he’ll never get to see anything else. Me graduating, growing up, all those milestones you’re told not to focus on, but that’s easy to say when you’ve been privileged to have your loved one round for them. I really could go on forever but that’s enough for now. I really miss you Pops, I hope wherever you are you’re at peace and watching over me. I love you so so much x