Memories

This is the second birthday without Dad and the day is suitably grey, and yet I do not feel sad that he is no longer on this earth, but rather grateful that he enjoyed his time here so much, seeing every new day as an opportunity to do something interesting and find out new things, or just to watch the birds in his garden, or record the weather and rainfall (something he did since the early 70s. He could tell us how much rain we had on the 6th of June 1983 and which way the wind was blowing, what birds he saw and how much the telephone bill was. Methodical and a master mathematician to the very end, he unfortunately was unable to share the secrets of algebra with me, but he did ensure that I took an interest in life - never just accepting what was fed to us through the media, but questioning and investigating for ourselves. He didn't enter into arguments about anything that I can remember, simply stating his opinion and leaving the listeners to make up their own minds, and never being in any doubt that he was right. I think he lived his life entirely happy with his place in it.
He would have been looking forward to today's approaching cold front, while wondering how strong the wind would be and whether any tiles would blow off the roof. The northwester always hit our home in Clovelly particularly hard (doubtless some kind of punishment for living in a place entirely devoid of the bothersome summer southeaster) and sometimes the roof rattled so loudly in a gale that he and Mom would have to move down a storey to get some sleep in a back room, trusting that the roof would remain in place! There was seldom more than a tile or three missing and once a fascia board disappeared, but otherwise a cold front was always something to look forward to, as the large garden extending far up the mountain slope needed plenty of watering, despite the indigenous nature of Mom's pride and joy.
While there are many aspects of today's life that I am pleased they are not exposed to any more, being left behind - no longer being someone's child - has been difficult and I doubt it will get any easier.

With Alison in England, 1965

Somewhere freezing in the UK, 1966