Golf balls. Cufflinks. Crime thriller novels.
Present buying was a torture
when it came to you.

You weren’t rich
but wanted for nothing.
Just give me a card
and a call
You’d say.

I look now at my few mementos
and realise you were right.
Most precious are
the memories,
they never fade
nor lose their shine.

Today you would have been 58.
If you were here
I’d buy you nothing
just tell you that
I love you.

Six Months

Milestones weigh heavy
Like a millstone
Around your neck.
Feelings intensify,
Memories magnify,
The Loss seems larger.
It’s not.
Today transports us
Back to your bedside
Where we said our final
Time is a healer
But also a stealer
Blurring the lines;
Putting you in soft focus.
But never forgotten.
Six months on
I remember
You’re larger than life.

A Eulogy: For Dad


In memory of my father, Laurence Doyle, who died aged 56, 30th April 2013. R.I.P

They called you Lucky Larry; really we were the lucky ones.

You taught us to dream big and live large; you taught us to laugh, to love, to smile and to enjoy life to the full.

We learnt from you that life is for living.

We learnt from you to banter with the best of them.

We learnt from you to never give up, however bad the odds.

You were the life and soul of the party. You lived in the here and now, never fearing or worrying about tomorrow.

Forrest Gump said ‘Life was Like a Box of Chocolates’ but for you, life mimicked a different dessert. Like your favourite trifle, life was filled to the brim with contrasting yet complementary layers.

You were a father, husband, brother, uncle & friend. You were a plumber, a publican, a dancer, a joker, a sport fanatic, music fan & wind-up merchant – you were so many things to so many people.

You were taken from us too early but in time, I hope we will all begin to understand that our loss was heaven’s gain.

When the sun shines, when music fills the air, when we laugh and when new memories are made, we’ll know that you will be smiling down on us, watching with pride as the party carries on, in your honour.

The Beginning…

With writing, the hardest part is always the beginning. A blank piece of paper, whether physical or virtual, can be cripplingly intimidating. For every writer, putting those first words down is a crucial step. For me, the launch of this blog signals that step.

From my About page, you’ll see that I’m well-versed with writing. It’s what I do, day in, day out. But I want to try something different.

As my next post will show, I’ve recently experienced a major life event, which is significant to the launch of this blog. The death of my father has had a massive impact on my life, in so many ways. In time, as I truly come to terms with this loss, I’m sure I will find ways to articulate the now seemingly indescribable feeling of losing one of the most important people in my life. Who knows, perhaps writing will help.

Dad was ever the proud parent when it came to my writing; he kept clippings from the paper with my byline and boasted to his friends about my interviews with celebrities and sports stars. Back then I was embarrassed but now it’s a memory I hold dear.

I made a New Year’s Resolution to get back to writing and attended an excellent two day workshop by Northern Irish author, Colin Bateman in Bangor in January. As an avid reader, dad instantly got excited, thinking I would one day pen a novel. Since then, life, with its unexpected twists and turns, has gotten in the way and I’ve made little time to write outside of everyday work tasks. In light of recent events however, I’ve found truth in the hackneyed saying ‘Life is too short’ and feel a renewed impetus to get back to it – to make time to do something I love so much. I know my dad would like that. So, here goes…