...my Dad. It would have been his 67th birthday today. Sadly, he died of cancer 19 years ago. It started in his lung and went to his brain. Ironic really, considering how clever he was. Mum was devastated. They'd been childhood sweethearts since they were 13 and were true soul mates. Even now, 20 years later, she hasn't really got over it.
He might have only been 47 when he died, but he'd packed a fair bit into his life. After his degree, he did Officer Training at RAF Cranwell when I was a little girl but it wasn't really him and he went on to work on projects for the MOD. In the 1970's/80's he was always flying off to Iraq, Iran, America, Germany, Switzerland and even the Falklands after the war. Mark reckons he was a spy and we just didn't realise!
This was taken in 1977 in Belgium. I was 10 years old. Dad was going to Switzerland on business and decided this time he would take Mum and us with him. We were 2, 7, 9 & 10 years old. To make it more of an adventure he decided to drive. We went through France, Belgium, Germany (another business stop) and eventually Switzerland.
Even though he was away a lot when I was little I never felt I missed out on having a Dad. But I do feel I missed out on really knowing him adult to adult. I was 26 when he died but I'd lived down South for a few years so we didn't see each other very often. I moved back up North in 1992 but the following year he became ill. I would have liked to have known him as I got older and became a parent myself.
So many things have happened since he died that he would have loved to have been part of, but that's what life is all about I suppose, it keeps moving forward.
Today, along with many other people, I'm also remembering Fusilier Lee Rigby. I watched his funeral on TV, before he came back home to Middleton. The courage and dignity his family have shown has been amazing.
So very true.