Jackie McGregor: Father’s Day: Celebrating dads and the bright light they leave behind

Whenever I used to go for a night out in my youth, dad would normally give my pals and me a lift into town. As I would get out of the car, his parting shot would always be, “I’ll leave the light on for you.”

It was a silent vigil with two purposes: it helped me find the keyhole and feel safe, and when the light went off, he knew I was in.

Back then, I didn’t realise how lucky I was to have someone who loved me enough to not sleep until I was safely home.

History now repeats itself as I carry out the same ‘light on’ ritual with my son.

What once seemed like a simple household habit has become an act of love, worry and quiet reassurance, passed from one generation to the next.

Tomorrow is Father’s Day, a time to honour the men who raised us.

Though it may bring sadness, I was lucky, because dad and I shared some wonderful times.

I valued my dad and our bond so deeply that I didn’t leave home until I was in my fifties. Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, after my mum’s death from the same condition. I cared for him full-time in the family home. There, I watched the disease slowly dim his light. In the end he left home before me.

Someone once said that a girl doesn’t truly become a woman until she loses her father.

I finally understood that truth when my father passed away. Our paths had been so tightly enmeshed, his death felt like someone had stolen my safety net.

He had been my shield from the world, my cheerleader and my touchstone. I didn’t just love my father; I genuinely liked him. He was funny, kind and great company - my blueprint for what a man should be. And, even when he had dementia, I still had a dad. He might not have known who I was, but I knew exactly who he was.

In the end, it’s not the big life lessons we learned from our fathers that we remember best; it’s the small things, the private jokes and traditions that stay with us always. We pass these on to our own children and in these full-circle moments we discover, even when our fathers are no longer with us, their light shines on.

I can still clearly picture my father’s pale blue eyes, hear his infectious laughter and remember his excellent hugs. I miss the hugs, they always made me feel like everything would be alright.

Then one day, it wasn’t alright anymore.

Strange thoughts filled my mind as I sat with him in those final days. I pondered on how strange it was to know the end of our story. There would be no more “dad and me”. He was leaving, I could sense it. The room felt inexplicably crowded, yet it was empty, just us. Feeling like a lost child, I hugged him for the last time, whispering,

“Leave the light on for me, dad.”