by Nat
I have bucket loads of incredible privileged memories of my dad.
Holidays galore; Sunny California to see my sister (and Mickey), Noirmoutier to pitch our tent next to the beach and Somerset for cherished time with Jane and Charlie.
He’s always one to save money for the things that matter; buying the cheapest brands at the supermarket (and MandM Direct), parking on the roadside miles from anywhere and only ever getting his wallet out very very occasionally… I can recall just two times in the past 30 years; once when clothes shopping and he didn’t know his pin (witnessed by Jane and Charlie) and again to buy me a Mickey Mouse fire engine toy from Disneyland.
The perfect gentle giant; a perfectionist in his arts, crafts and photography, always taking the extra time to complete his project. Although sometimes colour-blindness got in the way if he hadn’t checked with mum (like when he accidentally made Lara green!). Mum would often challenge him to build another useful home improvement and eventually… he would get round to it. In the months before he died he fixed our gate, mowed our lawn, fitted our Dyson and was determined to carry the parasol all the way during his final trip to the beach. He was always so strong and always had the time to help.
When others might crumble with anger, he was wholeheartedly compassionate; when I messed up my AS Levels, he wasn’t angry in the slightest. Instead he told me ‘you did your best and to go again’. When my football smashed the shed window, he understood and just sourced another pane of glass while I was at school. When I locked my keys in my car before our honeymoon, he simply gave us his car to get to the airport.
He is the gooey wine gum that glues our big family together; he guided us through some pretty tough times. With Dad’s optimism I just saw being the child with cancer as a world of opportunity. Dad brightened everyone’s day with jokes and predictable Dad-sayings (“My father was a great man, he told me so himself, he said Son I’m a great man”), with his big embracing hugs and his love of capturing ‘the moment’ with his camera. As we all make our merry way through life, it sometimes feels easy to focus on the tougher times and dwell on life’s negatives. Dad didn’t see it that way. The only negatives he liked to focus on were developed in the darkness of his loft, displaying so many happy memories.
