Dad's book was never written. He catalogued many photographs from his seventy four years on this planet, with the intention of telling his life's story one day soon, but when it came to sitting still and getting the job done, Dad's final Autumn blazed so beautifully, he simply couldn't resist the call of his garden. In hindsight, I think I knew he had a sense of something significant on the horizon; he told me he needed to finish his book, but wasn't sure he would be around the following year to write it, but Autumn was so glorious in 2010, I laughed off his comment and told him his book would wait until the winter months. I couldn't imagine a day when he wouldn't be around to enjoy his garden ...
As the years slipped by, it became more and more important to Dad that when the day finally came and he was no longer with us, there would be a record of his life, something to show who he had been, what he had seen and what had been most important to him.
He needed us not to forget him ... as if we ever could.
Dad left us without warning on 18th September 2010 and as I wrote the eulogy for his funeral it became clear to me that although his book was never written, everything Dad truly needed us to know, he had already shown, or told us.
To write his book would have meant temporarily putting real life on hold whilst re-living the past and Dad really wasn't a man to do that. He was a 'do-er', a larger than life character eager to experience life and carve his niche in the world, not the kind of man to sit down and write a book!
So Dad, don't worry, you never could have been forgotten. You are with us always and of course we miss you every day ... but not only that ... as your daughters, we celebrate who you were with pride, love and also with the knowledge you shared.
We may not have the written dates and details of your early travels and experiences, but that's not important - what is important is that you were our Dad and you taught us about life in a way no-one else could have done.
Happy Father's Day xxx
This bought a tear to my eye. Your dad was a special man and he may have not wrote the book but he lived it very well.
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