I’m not OK but everything will be OK

When you were here, everything was OK with the world. Whatever happened and wherever it happened, I knew it would all be fine because you were part of this world.

No you are gone and it’s not OK.

It’s not OK that I have been given your clothes. The best dressed man in England’s clothes now worn by the scruffiest man in England. When I used to stay, I used to borrow your clothes — they felt like a shield. They made me feel strong. Now I feel like an impostor when I wear them. They’re yours and they always will be. I wear your watch every day. I remember like yesterday the day you took off you father’s watch and gave it to me.

It’s not OK that I can hear the birds, feel the wind and watch the river move without you.

It’s not OK that I can’t hear your voice anymore, shake your giant hands, hug you and smell the softness from your white hair.

It’s not OK.

I’m not OK.

But it will be OK.

I will look after your daughter — her inner and outer beauty a mirror to your own. She’ll look after me. We’ll look after your grandchildren. You’ll always be alive through them.

I will always miss you but everything will be OK.