Phoenix Fights

Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2016….


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The other day, I was on public transport listening to my iPod, trying to ignore all the crap and noise around me, when the shuffle jumped from a particularly uplifting hip hop track to this, and a shiver went down my spine as I was catapulted back a decade, from a grubby London bus to a dark, overheated bedroom in an old folks home where Death, angels or one particular ghost hovered and peeked over my shoulder at the emaciated form of an old, sick, dying man.

This was my Dad’s song for my Mum (whether he ever told her this is anyone’s guess), but in the days before he died, it played and crackled on a loop from a knackered old cassette player in his room, and at times, I would swear to the presence of another in the room suffering alongside us.

Only a few people know the story of the night my Dad died, and maybe one day I’ll tell it on here as something happened that day that I can’t explain and will never forget.

But I only have to hear the almost eerie opening bars to this song to remember everything.

This is for you Dad, wherever you are x


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