My dad would have turned 60 this month. He passed away from cancer when he was 48. I think of him a lot. I talk about him to the kids a lot. As I lay in bed with Will the other night, he asked me what my dad was like. I told him that he was incredibly funny, and mostly silly, and sometimes grumpy (you never asked dad, always ask mum); he played the guitar and sang really well, he sang often and loudly and we always had music going in the car or at home; he loved a party or a BBQ or firecracker night and on these occasions, and any occasion in fact, he loved to have a nibblies plate of cheese and pickled onions and crackers and a beer; he was very proud of his Scottish heritage and was good for a chat. Will said, “gee, that’s a bummer that he died, he could have taught me to play the guitar.” So innocent. A bummer indeed, my little friend. There’s so much he could have shown you. I would love to know him now…
Please excuse the poor scans, I don’t have too many photos of him but wanted to share. Here he is at around 46 I guess. His face was always red. When we were small he used to say he was from the Red Indians. Which we believed. I still have the leather band that he is wearing in this photo and I like holding it.
Dad with me.
And on my wedding day. He was the MC for our wedding. Even though he was quite sick by this stage, he was funny and loving and emotional and so perfect for that role. There wasn’t a dry eye for the entire day. He sang “Some Days Are Diamonds”, which was one of his favourite songs, and one of mine, and a song that I will always associate with him. He died 9 months later. He is not forgotten. Happy Father’s Day. x
