My Dad passed away two years ago tomorrow, words cannot begin to convey how much I miss him, and at this time of year the six nations was a joy we both shared for what seemed like forever, but I have to tell you that every tournament since his death comes with a little emptiness that is hard to define or indeed describe.

This year is no different, and whilst the day to day pain of loss gets less frequent, the emptiness that creeps up unexpectedly for no particular reason, when I realise he is no longer here, gets worse, that emptiness more often than not coincides with rugby moments, and usually Welsh ones.

How he would have loved last years Grand Slam, but he would equally have enjoyed the early morning kick offs of the Rugby World Cup in Japan, with a mug of coffee.

He first took me to Cardiff Arms Park in 1971 to watch Wales play Canada, it was the most amazing day of my life as a 12 year old.

There were no colour televisions in those days, so I had only ever seen Wales play in black and white, I can remember the blinding vividness of the green grass and the Scarlet shirts glinting in the October sunshine, it was a magical shock to the senses, and it started a love affair that exists to this very day.

So please do me a favour, if you are attending any of this years six nations matches with your Dad, give him an extra hug from me, tell him how much it means for you to share the joy of this wonderful game with him, (even though of course he already knows).

But most of all treasure every precious moment, those memories are priceless, and when Hen Wlad fy nhadau belts out next Saturday, in Cardiff, as Wales prepare to face Italy my dad and I will be together, briefly, once more.

It’s not called the land of my fathers for nothing.

Have a great six nations everyone.