My Dad

OAP = Old Age Pensioner SOD = Sod

My dad had a wonderful sense of humour. He took his position as father and bread-winner extremely seriously. He was a very private man. He had few friends because he didn't need them. I think my mum was his best friend. I say 'I think' because I realise now that I didn't know him very well during my years at home. I understand a lot more now, simply because I have matured and have had time to look back with adult eyes.

I cannot remember having long conversations with him. I cannot remember him actually putting his arms around me and cuddling me. I can remember him holding my hand a few times and I sat on his lap once or twice.

I accepted this lack of closeness without question - as a child would.

I used to stand next to him in his shed and watch him making things; sawing and planing; or repairing things. He used to sole and heal our shoes to get a few more month's wear out of them. I used to stand around watching while he fixed things on his car. He had a car accident once and as they were in the process of renewing the insurance policy at the time of the accident they weren't covered. He ploughed away, weekend after weekend until he'd completely fixed it. He had no training in mechanics at all, he just got the car instruction manual and worked on it until it was fixed.

I watched him build a little greenhouse at the end of our garden and grow delicious tomatoes and cucumbers each year. I haven't tasted tomatoes quite as sweet and succulent since.

I realise now that he must have loved having me following him around and I'm glad I did.

I also realise now that my dad had more love in him than he could handle. He just could not show it. The only way he knew was to provide the food on the table, the coal for the fire that kept us warm and the security of a home. He used to take us out at weekends sometimes. That is why I have been to most of the popular tourist attractions in London, eg: The Tower of London, The British Museum, etc. and to beauty spots around the south of England. We also always had a holiday each year even though we weren't that well off. My favourite holiday was at Trebarwith Strand in Cornwall.

I have lived in Australia for 28 years now and always wrote to my parents regularly. My mum wrote every single week; beautiful letters, full of news, questions, newspaper cuttings, anything she thought I would be interested in. Occasionally there would be a note from my dad in his beautiful script-like handwriting.

My mum passed away in 1999 and I stopped writing for a while. I was phoning dad from time to time and then in one phone call he said how much he would love to get letters. It made me realise that I'd been assuming my correspondence was only to mum but quite obviously dad had been absorbing every word of my letters and was missing them!

From that day every Sunday I would sit down and enjoy writing a long letter to dad. He was unable to write back as he was so frail so I kept phoning too. I really enjoyed telling him my news, adding photos, anything I thought he'd be interested in.

I also encouraged my sons to write him letters which they did and had done just a couple of weeks previous to Australia Day 2005.

It was early Monday morning, a public holiday as it was Australia Day. I was living by myself with my dog, in a small unit in a suburb of Perth. I'm not sure what woke me but it was about 3am and very quiet, very still. I laid awake for a while then started to drift in and out of sleep, then a voice whispered in my ear, "I love you." It startled me because it was as if the person, definitely male, was right next to me. I sat up and looked around and thought I must have imagined it but it was too real.

Four hours later the phone rang. It was my sister calling from the UK. She was silent at first and then said, "It's dad...." He had passed away quietly in his sleep. I immediately knew who had visited me just hours before.

At last he was able to tell me.