My father's birthday

Certain birthdays are etched into my memory; others that I should remember, are sadly not.

Today, August 5th, was my late father's birthday, which I never forget. He was born in 1905.

I suppose he was very typical of his ilk. Privately educated, he was reserved, correct, and honest. He worked hard and was successful. He was also highly respected. However, as a 'father' he probably lacked certain skills, as I expect many of his era did.

I don't ever remember kicking a Football with him, or playing Cricket in the garden. But at the age of about 11 he did buy me a BSA Air Rifle; which I still have. It was very out of character, and I was never sure what he thought I'd do with it.

I still regret that I wasn't with him when he died. He'd suddenly been moved to a different hospital, and I hadn't been informed. A day later I received the inevitable phone call that said he'd 'gone'. I would liked to have been with him, and held his hand, as I was with my mother; but it wasn't to be. I do hope he didn't think that I'd abandoned him, but I suspect he would have been unconscious.

His photo hangs in my sitting room here in France. I have so much to thank him for. I shall look at his picture today and do so.