‘Look on not back and up not down, whilst it’s sunny make the hay.

The silver lining of a cloud is never far away.

Keep smiling when it’s hard to do and follow this simple creed.

Never let them see you hurt, don’t let them see you bleed.’

This verse forms part of the poem Forty something Philosophy written by my Dad.

It’s no secret that under any circumstance, I hate crying in front of other people. I find myself either trying my best to hold back the tears, diverting the conversation or disappearing into private. Of course I know all too well that we do not choose to cry, but generally I will only be seen in uncontrollable hysterics if escaping isn’t an option.

My Dad’s motto – ‘Don’t let them see you bleed.’ I’ve seen Dad shed a tear only on a couple of occasions in my whole life. Twice I have seen him doing everything in his power not to burst out crying. Dad never specifically told me that he saw this as a sign of fragility, however when he spoke the words ‘Don’t let them see you bleed’, it became apparent that this was in fact the case. I know he didn’t view other people to be weak if they were crying; however he was afraid of sharing emotion in case it altered our opinion of him, and I have absolutely no idea why.

I believe it requires a great deal of bravery for someone to wear their heart on their sleeve, lay the cards on the table in a situation when they’re the most vulnerable and admit to the world, ‘I am broken’.

Although I don’t necessarily believe in my Father’s philosophy, I realise that I may have unknowingly tried to adopt this aspect of his personality. I think it is for this reason, that on the day of my Father’s funeral I didn’t cry in front of anyone. Sometimes the impossible only becomes possible when you’re doing it for someone if you love him enough.

Until October 2015, I had rarely seen a grown man reduced to tears. I find it the most difficult to hold it together when I see men cry for the loss of my Dad, their best mate, their brother. In a situation that at the time seemed so surreal, this confirmed for me that I was actually living and breathing this nightmare. But Dad’s motto still bounces round my head, and so I hold it together.