60 Years Young
Today would have been my dad's 60th birthday. When I was little, I thought that 60 was OLD. And I mean, cardigan, slippers and pipe OLD. But my dad wasn't old. Far from it.
He used to take a kite up to St Andrews and fly it on the beach. He owned, and loved, all the Harry Potter books, and he read The Hobbit and the Lord Of The Rings for the first time when he was in his 50's (after I pestered him about it for months). He owned a set of Boomwhackers, which he took to teambuilding sessions he was running (presumably to the bemusement of his colleagues). He said it was for breaking the ice, but I suspect he just enjoyed having a muck-about with them. He loved larking about with the cats, and if he'd lived to see any grandchildren he would've had a ball with them as well. He gave anything a go, and he was very into gadgets and new technology. Despite having a posh car for many years, he took the bus to work in his last job, listening to his trusty iPod and reading. He loved every second of it, and marvelled at the iPod and how it had revolutionised the way he listened to music.
He definitely subscribed to the notion that you're as young as you feel.
I remember the day he died like it was yesterday, but one of the most vivid memories I have is of driving back from the hospital along the M8 to Edinburgh, in the dark. Although it was the 13th of November, the good people of Broxburn and Uphall hadn't yet got bored of setting off fireworks, and all I could see for miles were fireworks of every description exploding silently in different colours. In the darkest moment of my life thus far, I was fascinated by them and how pretty they looked from a distance. I watched, thinking of my dad and his next great adventure. For I think that's how he would have viewed it.
Happy Birthday Pop.
He used to take a kite up to St Andrews and fly it on the beach. He owned, and loved, all the Harry Potter books, and he read The Hobbit and the Lord Of The Rings for the first time when he was in his 50's (after I pestered him about it for months). He owned a set of Boomwhackers, which he took to teambuilding sessions he was running (presumably to the bemusement of his colleagues). He said it was for breaking the ice, but I suspect he just enjoyed having a muck-about with them. He loved larking about with the cats, and if he'd lived to see any grandchildren he would've had a ball with them as well. He gave anything a go, and he was very into gadgets and new technology. Despite having a posh car for many years, he took the bus to work in his last job, listening to his trusty iPod and reading. He loved every second of it, and marvelled at the iPod and how it had revolutionised the way he listened to music.
He definitely subscribed to the notion that you're as young as you feel.
I remember the day he died like it was yesterday, but one of the most vivid memories I have is of driving back from the hospital along the M8 to Edinburgh, in the dark. Although it was the 13th of November, the good people of Broxburn and Uphall hadn't yet got bored of setting off fireworks, and all I could see for miles were fireworks of every description exploding silently in different colours. In the darkest moment of my life thus far, I was fascinated by them and how pretty they looked from a distance. I watched, thinking of my dad and his next great adventure. For I think that's how he would have viewed it.
Happy Birthday Pop.
This entry was posted
on Tuesday, January 30, 2007 at 2:03 pm.
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What a lovely post - Happy birthday Teeny's dad.
Sorry Kat, I didn't know and was too bloody busy to email you today with anything other than 'hop hop' shite!!
Give your lovely mum a hug from me.
I've said it before but somehow in the most darkest of hours life shows you some sort of beauty.
I'd like to think of your Dad up there having a little farewell party in the skyl.
Besides its a nicer image than the radges setting of fireworks in their Kappa tracksuits. . .
Love you mate XXX
Sky, I mean sky.
X
Thanks both. And don't worry DQ - how would you know? It crept up on me a little bit.
Happy Birthday Teeny's dad! You've got a lovely girl to be proud of.
Cumpleaños felices - *levanta un vidrio al cielo* - say hello to my grandpa, I think he's the one 'break-dancing' on the dancefloor
Stacey - thanks, you're very sweet!
Goth - you got me. I know 'cumpleaños felices' is happy birthday (isn't it?! doubting myself now) but 'levanta un vidrio al cielo'? Tell!
That's it on the tear-jerkers for now. Normal service will be resumed shortly.
Hi Teeny - a lovely tribute.
(sorry I am late with commenting - I am always late at the moment...)
as near as dammit to 'raise a glass to the ceiling' - doesn't quite work the same when you translate it but, you got the happy birthday bit right ;-)
Elisabeth - don't worry! Little Pickle needs you to look after yourself.
Goth - that standard grade came in useful after all! Who'd have thunk it.
Lovely post. Your Dad sounds like he was a great guy to know. And Uphall - you gotta love it! We (my firm not me personally) had a property on the market in Uphall a year or two ago. Got a few enquiries from south of the border about the house in "Yoofall". Still makes me snigger.
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