On Matters of the Heart

I think Downton Abbey ‘triggered’ me yesterday when I watched the *spoiler* scene where Lord Grantham’s ulcer burst while at dinner, resulting in an explosion of blood-vomit all over the table and the shocked diners.

It would have been quite a comedic scene, if it wasn’t for its sobriety. It was quite uncharacteristic of Downton Abbey, and then when Lord Grantham lay in a puddle of blood and his wife told him she was there for him, and not to worry, I began to cry uncontrollably.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t upset about Lord Grantham, I am not so invested in the characters of Downton Abbey that their fates would bring me to tears.

That scene made me think about things which are very close to my heart. Namely that my father who is 53 (which isn’t very old, but he is an overworked gentleman and it shows) lives abroad and works very hard to support his wife and children, his mother and his widowed sister. He works at all hours, and lives alone in a lonely country.

And if anything were to happen to him, like what happened to Lord Grantham, nobody would know, and nobody would be there like Lady Grantham was for her husband. We wouldn’t be there for him and that hurts so very badly, so I spent the rest of the episode sobbing my heart out. I called my father straight away, and didn’t tell him how worried I am about him, but we spoke of cheerful things and it was lovely, but my heart hurts.

I think that enough is quite enough, and it’s time he came home to his family.

 I miss him very very much, and it’s been five years of hurried glimpses, a two week span here and there, and I just want my father back now.