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Second chance

Updated: Apr 5





I’d have died for my daughter, but she died before me.


Last year, her life was severed six weeks before her 18thno warning,  no goodbyes, and birthday, with no last hug before she got on the bus for the concert.


She never got to go to her debs, her first real taste of freedom, moving away from home, going to college, or travelling the world. She never got to fulfil her dream of using her recent lifeguard qualification on Bondi Beach.


A few years ago, after her nearly deaf grandfather left our house, Ciara told me she wouldn’t put the big words on the TV for me like we did for him. In the same breath, she told me she wouldn’t change my nappy when I got old either.  

She threw her head back and laughed as she said the last sentence, knowing she’d get a reaction.


‘What,’ I said, ‘where the hell did you get that idea?’


She said, ‘I just did.’


She said nothing else and continued to watch the TV, but I could see the smirk on her face.


Now everything is gone. My life is cut short. I will have spenth in twenty years or so my time on eart. I’ll have a chance to do what I want, but I will never get the chance to hug my daughter again. There is no second chance.

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