Sorry I haven’t had posted much this year. 2019 hasn’t been the easiest year so far. Having had persistent viral infections over a 12 week period at the start of the year. I decided to do a redesign of my blog then part way through my dad lost his battle after suffering a major stroke in 2018. As my new design is now live I will dedicate this post to him.
Born during the wartime, in 1942 and surviving whooping-cough at 4 weeks old he soldiered on to become a mischievous child. After finishing school, which he didn’t like, he went to technical college and spent his working life in the manufacturing of tools, which back in the day was a booming industry. As a lifelong supporter of Sheffield Wednesday FC he also worked part-time at Hillsborough Stadium.
Earliest memory of my Dad
My earliest memory of him, as a youngster, was him looking after my brother and me whilst my Mum worked in the evening. He would read stories to me before tucking me up in bed.
On holidays he would go on all the fairground rides with me because my Mum and Brother didn’t like them much. We went crabbing, played games, go walking and he would even kick a ball around with us. On holidays abroad, as teenagers, we would volunteer him to go on stage. He once dressed up as a woman and have us all in stitches with laughter.
Myself and my brother weren’t spoilt with luxury gifts, there wasn’t enough money to do that. He taught us the true meaning of life and to uphold the values in it. To be respectful, give love and laugh along the way, even if it was at your own expense. If you wanted to know something Dad was a go to person for an answer, especially if it involved gardening or growing vegetables.
At 76, he was lucky to have 5 grandchildren and 1 great-granddaughter, who he treated all the same. Like our childhood, he would read and play with them, take them to the country or seaside and cut up fruit for them with his special little pocket knife. The little things in life which we often take for granted end up being the most memorable.
I am so like my Dad in many ways. I inherited his quick wit, fantastic and often naughty sense of humour. Our connection, fabulous and telepathic. In 1998, sensing something wasn’t right and on rushing home from work I found him having a heart attack. Luckily he pulled through and with lifestyle changes went on to lead a normal life.
Over the last 4 years he has been a shadow of his former self. Although my emotions are still raw he is in a better place. The stroke he suffered last year left him paralysed and unable eat and speak. With no quality of life it’s a little easier to let him go although I will miss him terribly.
In the space of 4 years I have lost 3 male figures in my life including my partner and my uncle. I am very lucky to have lots of memories of all of them.
Sweet dreams Dad xx