Showing posts with label dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dad. Show all posts

Saturday, February 04, 2017

Happy Birthday, Dad

I have to admit, my heart has not been in sharing thoughts here with those who choose to read it, I do sometimes post on my other blog with my paper crafting, only because that is where my heart lies.

But something happened yesterday, that surprised me. My sister posted on her Facebook page that she was remembering my dad's birthday and that she missed him. That was it. I had forgotten it was his birthday.  And that surprises me because I have been thinking so much about him, my mum and George since the year began.  I think it could be because this year will mark the 20th anniversary of George's death.  I can't believe it's been that long, it truly only feels like it happened only a couple of years ago.

So much has happened in those 20 years, Thomas finishing high school going off to University, then off to Korea to teach English. Shortly after his return to Canada he went back to college to hone his skills as a photographer. I have joined the local school board where I work as a special needs assistant, sometimes having fabulous years with the students, sometimes not, being treated badly by both students and administration. I have attempted to get back into the dating scene, only to decide it just isn't worth it. It seems that the men whom I'm interested in have no interest in friendship. I lost both my parents and endured heart wrenching funerals with my son and family by my side. Losing my parent's house was especially difficult. I have made and lost friendships, and now that I'm older and wiser, I realise that removing toxic people from my life is essential to happiness.  Thomas has had a few girlfriends and heartbreaks, and also recently another heartbreak when he lost his job at the Toronto Star Newspaper. He did however, find a place to live that he loves, and that is giving him some joy.

My mum died in 2004. She was one of my best friends, and I talked to her almost daily, we were so so close. I miss her so very much. Being here in Canada alone with only Thomas as my family, she was very important to me, the voice on the phone that made me feel loved and encouraged. I wondered how I would manage without her. My younger sister Lorna stepped up, and she became my new best friend, doing for me what my mum used to. I love her dearly.

My dad died in 2014, not too long ago, and that is why I can't believe that I forgot his birthday. My sister was closer to him than I was. When I was young, he spent weeks away on assignments in the army. After he was discharged, he went to work before I got up, and came home shortly before I went to bed. Then I was away for 5 years at boarding school. I lived at home for about 2 years before leaving England for good in 1974. So our relationship was distant, not through disagreement, but because we hadn't really had the opportunity to get to know each other. The last 10 years of his life he struggled (actually it was me who struggled) with Alzheimers disease. My amazing sister Lorna, again stepped in and took on the often difficult role of being one of his caregivers. I only visited every other year for a couple of weeks, to give her a rest, and to catch up with my dad. Dad always introduced me to his friends as his Canadian daughter, which I often took offence to, but I'm sure he meant it as a term of endearment. He thought I didn't understand how things worked in England because I lived in Canada. Sometimes that could be true, but again it rubbed me the wrong way. He taught me to play the harmonica, he took me fishing, he tried to explain the inner workings of the car engine, he took me on his 3 am paper route around Essex, he gave me an appreciation, (although not at the time) of photography, he showed me what a loving husband and father looked like.

So how on earth could I forget that it was his birthday yesterday?

So now I want to wish you a very would be
HAPPY 90th BIRTHDAY, Dad

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Funerals

Funerals are strange things. I went to my father's funeral with sadness and anxiety and came out feeling uplifted and at peace. 

My sister Yvonne asked if I would put together some words for the eulogy, and perhaps a photo display of my dad. I wrote most of the eulogy before I left for England, and I put together a video of the photos I had of my dad and our family. I had also made the memorial card for people who joined us at Colchester Crematorium. When I told my brother that I was including memories of the grandchildren, he seemed upset saying he only wanted it to be about Dad. But I explained it was about Dad, because they were his grandchildren.

A few days earlier my sisters and I sat down with the vicar Peter, the same one who did the funeral for our mother 10 years ago.  He asked us questions and I gave him the eulogy which he read aloud to the 3 of us. I had made one or two changes, as new information became available.  He seemed happy with it, even stopping occasionally to maintain his composure. Then he asked if anyone was going to be speaking at the service. My sister Lorna wanted to read a poem, so he asked her to read it. She got very emotional and in the end she was unable to finish it. Peter said he would read it if she was unable, to which Lorna responded gratefully that she would like that. Then I said that I would  read some excerpts from a love letter I wrote in 1997. He looked it over and smiled.

A day or so before the funeral, my nephew James had asked if he could carry the coffin into the crematorium, to which Thomas said he would also like to do the same. I made a point of letting everyone know that I did NOT want to walk the hurst out of the neighbourhood like we did my mother. That was just too painful to do, and just felt wrong.

So the morning of the funeral, the family gathered at my dad's house and we each got into the cars after looking at the beautiful flowers that Yvonne had ordered for us. As we drove the short distance to the crematorium, I was beginning to get anxious about reading my letter, and I shed a few tears, knowing this was the last farewell for our dad.

We got out of the cars, and James, Thomas, my brothers in law Kevin and David all carried the coffin into the service. We followed and Lorna could not hold her composure any longer. The music that was chosen for the service seemed a little strange to me, Strangers in the Night, Brown Eyes Blue, another that I forget, and a hymn, Abide with Me.  But the Vicar read the eulogy and I felt proud that I was able to capture my dad in a those words. 
These roses were on top of the coffin, and were given out to those in attendance
Then he read the poem that Lorna had requested. It really did sum up our feelings, and I will add it here when she sends it to me. I read my letter but stumbled once, so Lorna came up with me for support. Then Lorna had chosen Dance with my Father for the last piece of music, and people started to leave the chapel.  I stood at the door hugging all the people who came, some I had never met, but most I had. We looked at the flowers and chatted a little to our guests and then went into the cars and returned home where we had a lovely catered lunch with our friends and family.
Flowers from my brother David and his family. My dad loved to fish, especially with his son
I felt at peace. I'm not sure why, but it was a good feeling. I know not all of my family felt that way, but for me it was wonderful. Also, my brother told me later that he loved the eulogy, and realised that it was all about our dad.
Dad

Here is the eulogy if you care to read it. It is long!

Phil, or Chick as he’s known to many, was born on February 3rd, 1927, lived in Hatton in Warwickshire, with his parents Alfred and Della Hicken. He was brother to Mary and Audrey.

For his antics in school he learned how to knit and sew, when he was put in those classes with the girls as punishment!

He joined the army and served England for many years. While in the army he studied and completed his trade to become a mechanic.  He worked in various firms in Colchester and retired in 1997.

During his service, while in Colchester he met Eileen and their first date was at a cafe for tea. After a romantic courtship Phil proposed to Eileen. He sold his motorbike to buy an engagement ring for the woman he loved.
They were married at St. Botolph’s Church on March 7, 1953. He was still in the army when David and Mary were born. Later Lorna and Yvonne arrived, much to his delight.

Phil was an uncle to Ann in Australia, Della in New Zealand, Kathy in Ireland and Johan in South Africa. His closest nieces and nephew were Marilyn and Felicity and Glenn, here in Colchester.

Phil embraced all the things his late wife suggested: students from all over the globe, travel to many parts of the world, the many family walks in Friday woods, the dog Fluffy Lorna brought back from London, the dreaded slideshows. One of his favourite quotes was, “When I was in the army...” followed by groans from the listener.

Phil’s friends were many, but most of whom have also passed on. One friend in particular, a Superman in fact, who meant a lot to him was Trevor and his wife Lynne. They lived next door and could be counted on in times of need. Shortly after Eileen’s death, Trevor spoke to a friend who later showed up at Phil’s door with a gift that changed his life, Lucy. Lucy was the Sprocker Spaniel who was his constant loving companion.

Phil, Grandpa to his grandchildren, loved them and their visits.
On one occasion Jenna invited him to watch a show she was putting on in Southend. After the show Grandpa was gushing about how talented she was with her singing and dancing. She has since changed her focus and although he wasn't there earlier this week for her commencement, he was always proud of her.

Chris will miss him a lot. He produced him his latest great grandchild, Koby.

Thomas takes after his grandpa with the love of photography, now making it his career.  There were always admiring comments when Phil saw Thomas’s work.

James was probably the closest grandchild to him. He spent some time living with him and taking care of his every need.  Phil often talked of the trips to the barber for a haircut and shave that James took him for.

Sophie always took Talia to visit her great grandpa. The three of them sometimes went out for a meal and talked often of grandma.  There was a special bond between them.

Vanessa would go by on occasion to visit and cut her Grandpa’s hair. He loved those visits learning more about his other great grandchild, Lucas.

When Megan popped round her grandpa’s, she really missed her grandma but would take Lucy out for a walk.

Jack took his grandpa to the Clacton Air Show, and they shared their interest in the aeroplanes. He has fond memories of Grandpa tinkering in the shed at the bottom of the garden.

Phil’s hobbies always included gadgets. He once made Mary a transistor radio. He loved fixing his friend’s cars. He loved photography and developing black and white photos. He loved fishing with his son David. He loved making and fixing things around the house. He also loved watching sports on TV, from football to darts to snooker.  Did you know he was a DJ for a while?  He also loved animals, the dogs from his childhood, always named Molly. Two dogs more recently, Fluffy and Lucy. The bird Fred, the hamster Tiddles, the rabbit Pebbles. Also Lorna’s dogs Rocky and Buddy and David’s dog Dexter.

The last few years of Phil’s life, his children did all they could to make him comfortable and happy. Lorna, Yvonne and David all visited regularly making meals, going shopping, trips to the pub and local fishing hole. Mary being overseas, made phone calls as often as possible and occasional trips home to spend a couple of weeks catching up.



Phil had a good and long life, especially this last year, due to the care he received from Sally and Janet from Nayland Care. He will be missed. 

However we can take comfort in knowing he has been reunited with his first and most important love, his wife Eileen.

Sunday, July 06, 2014

Rest In Peace Dad

My Dad died on June 25th. Even though he has had Alzheimer's disease for many years, it was unexpected.

Two nights before he died I had a dream about my mother. In the dream she had Alzheimer's (in life she didn't), and I was trying to get through to her. I had taken her a bag of cookies, and was telling her that I loved her. When I woke up, first I thought that it was great that I had remembered my dream, as I seldom do. Then I thought that it was like my Mum and Dad were squished together as one. As soon as the word 'together' was in my mind, I was sure my Mum and Dad were together, that my Dad had died to be with my Mum. I ran to my phone that I always turn off at night, to see if there were any messages from home. There were not.

On the morning of his death, I turned my phone on at 7 am and saw many attempts that family members had made to contact me. He had passed away at 6 am.

My sister told me that her daughter Sophie had also had a dream, she and I are very similar in many ways. I truly believe that my Mum had come to let me know that my Dad was going to meet her.

The funeral is in a few weeks, so to keep me busy in the meantime, I made this memorial card for the guests at the funeral.
He was a quiet man, but with a good heart. My family will miss him dearly.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

A post about nothing (or possibly the most important thing)

I just realised that I haven't posted in a while, and thought I should post something. So now what on earth should I post.

I could talk about the rough time I've had at work, but then doesn't everyone have a rough time at work? I have spent the whole morning developing my resume and cover letters for the 17 positions I am applying for. With positive thoughts I have to get at least a couple of interviews.

I could talk about the fact that all I have done this weekend is shop at scrapbook stores buying even more stamps to make cool cards. But that wouldn't be news. Well it's not news, until I load cards onto my other blog, then you could look at them.

I could talk about how often I worked out this past week, but then after 4 good days of exercise, I haven't been in the last 3 days! I have no excuse as the class is only 30 - 45 minutes long, and I have very little pain. I discovered gravity classes at The Goodlife club on Toronto Street. No other Goodlife have the machines, and hopefully not too many people will discover them. Classes have to be booked 24 hours in advance, and there are only 8 machines. I am on an incline while I do squats and pull ups and curls etc. so I don't have a lot of pressure on my joints. The perfect workout. So with little pain, and little time, why aren't I going every day? Well that was the plan this week, but I was oh, so tired on Friday evening, and on Saturday I had to go scrapbook shopping and today there is no class. So those are my excuses!

I could talk about the weather. Apparently we broke some kind of record today, but since I haven't been out all day, I don't know if it was warm or cold! Just Googled it and it was warm. November 11 and the temperature was 18.4°C, that is pretty impressive, but everyone talks about the weather.

I could talk about the awesome split pea soup I made today, (just ate a bowl, and my tummy is smiling). But then doesn't everyone make soup on days that are supposed to be cold.

All I can really think of is that today is November 11th. Not only is it my niece's birthday, (Happy Birthday Sophie!) but this is the day we remember those who have and still are, trying to make this world a better place by keeping peace. My father served in the army toward the end of the 2nd world war. He has some stories that he used to tell, but most veterans don't like to recall those days. It wasn't a happy time back then, with families being torn apart, and loved ones never coming back.  I am grateful to those men and women who have suffered during times of unrest, and I am saddened that we haven't learned any of those brutal lessons. We are still at war, people are greedy and angry and take it out on the rest of us. I wish those of us who don't understand how some people feel it's okay to take another's life could just sail away to a place where war and disregard for life is banned. To me, wearing a poppy on November 11 is a reminder that there is still blood being shed at the hands of the greedy, hateful, ignorant warmongers.



Monday, January 26, 2009

Dad's upcoming birthday

While I was talking to my dad on the weekend, I was wondering how fast his Alzheimer's would progress. He was hit by a car last week while crossing the street. He misjudged how far the car was and thought he had enough time to cross before the car came. He left the dog outside for 6 hours in the snow in December, having forgot that he had let the dog out. Someone brought him back home the week before last, explaining to a neighbour that he'd forgotten where he lived.

This particular phone call he only repeated himself once, which was unusual. However on about 6 occasions during the call he forgot simple words. "The thing with grated carrots and stuff," I reminded him was salad. "Those things I take in the morning and at night," medicine. My brother had been over that weekend explaining to him that he would like to be the Power ofAttorney for him. I'm hopeful he understood what it was, but said what a great thing that my brother wanted to do that for him.

Aging is hard enough, but watching your parent slowly decline is awful. We all try to keep a positive outlook, but at the same time we have to remember that it's his disease when he sometimes says hurtful things, it the disease when he forgets to bath, its the disease when he forgets his keys and can't get in his house, (only to discover that when you show up to let him in, that the keys were in his pocket all along).

On February 3 he will turn 82. He is the only one from his own family left. His parents, step mum and both sisters died many years ago. His wife of 51 years died 4 1/2 years ago, and he now shares his home with Lucy, his faithful dog. My 2 sisters visit him weekly, my brother makes it there when he can, and all that I can do is call him once a week. We talk for about an hour, and often he has very little to tell me about, but I try to fill in the gaps with memories of old times, or stories of my kids at work.

This is the card I made for him.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD