Goodbye to Vlad the Dad
I'll keep this brief
Dear Reader,
You’ve not heard from me for a little while. As you know, I lost my beloved mother-in-law before Christmas, and in February my trailblazing grandmother died. I last wrote to you in Spring, hoping for better waters ahead. But after a short period with cancer, my father, Craig Sherwood, died on the 16th of June, the day after Father’s Day.
Craig loved history and we always called him Vlad the Dad. At his funeral this week, I discovered this nickname began as Vlad the Impala, gifted to him by colleagues on tour with Depeche Mode in the ‘80s. Craig was a production manager for rock’n’roll bands and major concerts like Nelson Mandela’s Birthday in the Park, the 2012 Olympic Opening Ceremony and the Queen’s Jubilee(s). If you’ve read the Thanks & Acknowledgements in my Bond novels, you’ll see Craig mentioned as my global tour guide. He’d travelled literally anywhere there’s a stage and provided me with insights and stories into all my locations for the Double O Series. There are many lines in the books that are his, from describing the smell of a hotel in Kazakhstan to the sensation of standing on the Great Wall of China.
We shared a love of literature, travel, history, films and music. We made each other laugh. At times there was distance between us, but we always found our way back to each other. At his funeral, I read ‘The Farewell’ from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. The poem begins, ‘Farewell to you and the youth I have spent with you. It was but yesterday we met in a dream.’ Here we are at the beginning of that dream.
After hearing about my recent losses, a former student got in touch and told me about the Portuguese word ‘saudade’, meaning the act of missing someone. She told me that in life we collect many saudades, like drops in a cup. Sometimes, the cup overflows. That’s how I feel right now. She told me we can’t pour the cup out, only learn to create more space for the saudade inside.
I wanted to let you know, because I really appreciate all your support and messages. I’ll write again soon, I hope from calmer waters.
From Kim, With Love x
I’m sorry for all your loss and heartbreak. My wife lost her father during the pandemic. He was such a force. We still have furniture he made us when we were too young and poor to buy our own. My wife has a little “shrine” including his pipes. We can still smell the distinct aroma of tobacco. It’s still difficult to absorb the fact that he’s gone. But we have a little robin that visits our garden that we say is him visiting us. We feel him around us. Your father sounds like such a powerful spirit. He must have been so proud of you. It sounds like you were very lucky to share each other’s lives. My thoughts are with you.
Oh my lovely Kim, dear brilliant flame, sore-hearted wordsmith, my heart goes out to you. So much loss in such a short time. It’s rather wonderful to begin to see, feel and recognise Craig’s influence in your work. What an ongoing tribute! I hold you (& Rosie and Ellie too) so close in my heart and thoughts. Be gentle with you- you’re precious. Lynne