Dad – Travels with Ali

It’s been a couple of months since I’ve written anything or joined in any challenge. Life has been challenging enough for a while!

I returned earlier than expected to the UK with my daughter and two grandchildren to see my dear dad. Fortunately we were just in time to spend a few days at his bedside and for him to see his great grandchildren, I believe he was holding on for us. My dear dad passed away a few weeks ago, having survived a year longer than expected. It was a blessing for my mum to have the children and my daughter on hand to keep her distracted.

After they returned I now have my wonderful husband to help with things. It’s unfortunate that my lovely mum has to go into a care home, but we have found a good one and I hope to have her settled before I return to Australia. It will be a wrench and on my conscience for a long time that this is has to be the outcome.

My dad was 91 and lived a long and mostly healthy and happy life, has left a gaping hole in all of our lives.

Even though I live in Australia and before that Hong Kong, having moved from the UK over 35 years ago, my parents came out every year to see us all. It was great having them every year for three months at a time. They were very independent and drove themselves around, with my dad joining our local golf course and making friends of his own.

A few years ago I bought him a book “Dear Dad, From You to Me”, on each page there was a question about his life and what I meant to him. Who knew he would turn into such a prolific writer, and he wrote pages and pages, filling up notebooks and finding old photos. Once this was written I read this, sometimes with tears but mostly with laughter. I typed this up and in the end had it made into small booklets.

My Dad – Ronald

1931 – 2023

Born in the East End of London and one of eleven children. He was the youngest boy, with five older brothers, two older sisters and two younger sisters. He was born a twin but sadly his brother died at six months old.

He was a fairly naughty boy, being led astray by his older brothers but doted on by his older sisters. My dad tells tales of playing in bomb craters and lighting fires, being dressed up as a guy and carted around in a wheelbarrow for “penny for the guy”.

During the war years he was evacuated twice. He seemed to have come through those years unscathed. The lady he lived with, reading between the lines, treated her charges as little slaves, perhaps this is the reason one of his older sisters brought him home before the war was over.

My dad could put his hand to anything, decorating, do-it-yourself, photography and sketching. We didn’t always see eye to eye being made in the same mould, but he was always there for me and helped me out in numerous ways over the years.

I will miss my facetime chats with him and my mum every week, but I know when I think of him he is with me at all times.