I'm going to take a break from mid-level moaning about my rough life raising two young girls and take a moment to tell them instead about what we should be doing tomorrow and the Grandad they won't remember.
The 12th September it is my Dad's birthday. He would be 70 tomorrow if he was still with us, which of course he is not. Dad's birthday always presented the challenge of what to buy him. A new book about the old Somerset and Dorset railway to add to his huge collection? He of course, would declare that he didn't need or want anything. That was him all over.
He was a serious coffee drinker. No filter brews for him - milk boiled in a pan on the hob, two sugars and a big mug. Several a day. I loved developing a taste for the same drink when I was about 20, and even now think of him every time I have a latte. After I left uni and was in my first job in London, Dad used to come and take me out for lunch every Monday around Baker Street. We usually went to an Italian cafe downstairs from my office and have our paninis, followed by coffee and (I cringe to think of it now) a cigarette each. This was when he was still working in London, before the cancer was diagnosed. Given that he worked night shifts he would often be found horizontal on the sofa at home. "Checking the insides of my eyelids for holes" he'd say as he got comfy.
Some of my earliest memories of Dad are at various racecourses, where we would stand in the stalls with him alternately checking his favourite's progress through binoculars and bellowing "Come on my son!". His backed horse would often place and he'd get that big toothy grin on his face as we went to collect his winnings.
Another early tradition was him taking me and Lucy to Charing Cross market on Sunday mornings. We'd buy bags of mixed stamps and go home to sort them into countries and glue them into albums. He was a collector of coins and had these great wooden board books for a collection of US quarters, each with a different state represented on it. In the last few years before he died he got into eBay and would buy coins on there. I don't know if he would have read this or got into Facebook to keep up with things like my Mum has.
He was the driver of the family, forever taking me and Lucy to friends' houses (he would always remember and refer to friends based on where they lived, as in "Gemma from Frome", "Gayna opposite the bookies" and so on) and in the summer holidays he would drive us to school so we could use the tennis courts and swimming pool (he would be asleep on some old red sofa cushions after reading the paper). He was the one who'd collect me from school in the middle of the day to go to my orthodontic appointments. He was the one who moved me from student house to home back to another student house every year. When I was about 13 or so we used to have a little routine of going to get petrol where I would collect the Texaco stamps which eventually got redeemed into a clock radio that I had for years. Sometimes I was allowed to change gear as we took a spin along the bypass - what a treat hey?! Whenever we were all heading off somewhere he'd be the first one ready, telling us "let's get this show on the road". Before the days of me and Lucy making our own mix tapes for journeys we were initiated into his tastes which included Bob Dylan, Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones, Crystal Gayle and rather bizarrely, Roxette.
As well as being a driver he was also a big walker and used to take us and the dog for long rambles down disused railway lines. Sometimes we used to go mushrooming and would spot rabbits. He would point out where the old stations used to be and give me a piggy back when I got tired.
When I was 17 and had started going out drinking with friends (you know who you are) I got so drunk one Christmas Eve that I was rather ill on Christmas Day. I expected him to be cross with me for alternately opening presents and throwing up but he was there with Alka Seltzer and sympathy.
He ate Snickers bars (then called Marathon) like they were going out of fashion yet was always thin. He supported Swindon Town FC through all the years of lower divisions... so typical that now they play in the premiership. He used to be in the US army which I don't know enough about, other than that he was a Sergeant and that when we holidayed in the states we met up with two of his army buddies, Rick and Deek who we had a great time with. Alyssa brilliantly muddled their names up once and referred to them as Dick and Reek. I can't sum up in one blog post all the things I could tell you about your Grandad. Or Daddad as he was named by Alyssa. (RaRa for my Mum) but this seemed to be a good place to start. I'd love it if anyone else who knew my dad could leave a comment with a memory of him too. Happy Birthday Dad x
The 12th September it is my Dad's birthday. He would be 70 tomorrow if he was still with us, which of course he is not. Dad's birthday always presented the challenge of what to buy him. A new book about the old Somerset and Dorset railway to add to his huge collection? He of course, would declare that he didn't need or want anything. That was him all over.
Some of my earliest memories of Dad are at various racecourses, where we would stand in the stalls with him alternately checking his favourite's progress through binoculars and bellowing "Come on my son!". His backed horse would often place and he'd get that big toothy grin on his face as we went to collect his winnings.
Another early tradition was him taking me and Lucy to Charing Cross market on Sunday mornings. We'd buy bags of mixed stamps and go home to sort them into countries and glue them into albums. He was a collector of coins and had these great wooden board books for a collection of US quarters, each with a different state represented on it. In the last few years before he died he got into eBay and would buy coins on there. I don't know if he would have read this or got into Facebook to keep up with things like my Mum has.
He was the driver of the family, forever taking me and Lucy to friends' houses (he would always remember and refer to friends based on where they lived, as in "Gemma from Frome", "Gayna opposite the bookies" and so on) and in the summer holidays he would drive us to school so we could use the tennis courts and swimming pool (he would be asleep on some old red sofa cushions after reading the paper). He was the one who'd collect me from school in the middle of the day to go to my orthodontic appointments. He was the one who moved me from student house to home back to another student house every year. When I was about 13 or so we used to have a little routine of going to get petrol where I would collect the Texaco stamps which eventually got redeemed into a clock radio that I had for years. Sometimes I was allowed to change gear as we took a spin along the bypass - what a treat hey?! Whenever we were all heading off somewhere he'd be the first one ready, telling us "let's get this show on the road". Before the days of me and Lucy making our own mix tapes for journeys we were initiated into his tastes which included Bob Dylan, Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones, Crystal Gayle and rather bizarrely, Roxette.
As well as being a driver he was also a big walker and used to take us and the dog for long rambles down disused railway lines. Sometimes we used to go mushrooming and would spot rabbits. He would point out where the old stations used to be and give me a piggy back when I got tired.
When I was 17 and had started going out drinking with friends (you know who you are) I got so drunk one Christmas Eve that I was rather ill on Christmas Day. I expected him to be cross with me for alternately opening presents and throwing up but he was there with Alka Seltzer and sympathy.
| Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.  |
| This was a less vomity Christmas. |
He ate Snickers bars (then called Marathon) like they were going out of fashion yet was always thin. He supported Swindon Town FC through all the years of lower divisions... so typical that now they play in the premiership. He used to be in the US army which I don't know enough about, other than that he was a Sergeant and that when we holidayed in the states we met up with two of his army buddies, Rick and Deek who we had a great time with. Alyssa brilliantly muddled their names up once and referred to them as Dick and Reek. I can't sum up in one blog post all the things I could tell you about your Grandad. Or Daddad as he was named by Alyssa. (RaRa for my Mum) but this seemed to be a good place to start. I'd love it if anyone else who knew my dad could leave a comment with a memory of him too. Happy Birthday Dad x
