My Dad
My Dad died a week ago today, after suffering a final stroke after several over the last few years. His funeral was today and managed to hold it together to deliver his eulogy. I struggled a bit but it was really important for me, and I hope, my Dad, for me to do it, rather than leave it to someone who did not know him. Here it is in full.
Those of you who were at my wedding might well have their doubts that I'll make it through this in one piece but my Dad wasn't prone to being over-emotional, so I'll do my best to emulate him now. I've never done this before, so I hope I manage to convey a little of my Dad's life and character, as well as my relationship with him. I wouldn't normally read from pre-written notes but I hope you'll forgive me if I do so on this occasion.
As you'll know, Dad was well into middle age before he met and married my mum and had a family. Much of his 40-odd years before that is a bit of a mystery to me and I always imagined that my Dad liked to keep it that way, preferring to believe that everything that happened before he met my mum was simply a warm-up and that his real life began with us. I know I feel that way about my own family. Luckily for me, his best friend from his wartime service, Marshall, is still around, and he helped me piece together a few details.
Dad was born between the 2 great wars, in 1924, in South Queensferry. Despite an austere background, he won a scholarship to the Royal High in Edinburgh. He once confessed to me that he had liked science and engineering but was forced to learn latin and the classics, which helped to determine his career after the war, as a law clerk and then a solicitor. Because of this, he always told me that I could and should choose whichever path that I liked, for which I am very grateful. In 1942, he joined the armed forces. Dad once told me a story about his conscription. Imagine a hall full of nervous 18 years olds. An officer addresses the group, asking for volunteers. Of course, most of them wouldn't dream of volunteering for something without any knowledge of what they were volunteering for. Not my Dad, up his hand went and off he went - to the Isle of Man, where he began 10 months of intensive training to become a Special Wireless Operator in the Royal Signals. By volunteering, he managed to avoid seeing any action and through most of the war, he didn't even have to wear a uniform.
He met Marshall during this time and they became lifelong friends. His job was to transcribe coded morse messages, which included learning the Russian and Chinese codes. He was posted to Palestine in 1944 before going to Egypt and after a time, he was seconded to the Intelligence Corp in Cyprus. He then spent time in Turkey before returning to Palestine after the war when Britain still controlled the country before Partition. We didn't know much about Dad's time in the army as he never really talked about it. We thought that he simply didn't like to say much but it turns out that he wasn't actually allowed to, since he had signed the Official Secrets Act. It's only been in recent years that he would have been allowed to say anything about it but sadly, by this time, he was unable to for other reasons.
I discovered a couple of things about my Dad during this time - his friends knew him as "Johnny" rather than John (which made me smile) and he was always the fittest of his group of friends and the best at games, particularly hockey. I guess I inherited my Dad's love of fitness and Chris has his sports skills. He took up golf with Marshall after the war but he played it like a hockey player, which I'm sure would have amused my brother to have seen.
In 1947, Dad returned to Britain and after being de-mobbed, he went to Edinburgh University to study Law. He became a law clerk and joined one of the only 2 firms that he ever worked for. He discovered fly fishing in the 50s through Marshall's Dad. His work meant that he dealt with many of the big estates in the Highlands and he managed to enjoy the fishing at many private lochs and rivers. He was still fishing well into his 70s, sitting in a boat in the pouring rain for hours on end, happy as could be. It was fishing that led him to meet 2 young Danish men, Henrik and Peter, while out near Edinburgh. They asked him where would be a good place to stay in the city and he invited them back to my grandparent's house. They were friends for the rest of their lives and our first foreign holiday was to visit Henrik and his family in Denmark in 1980.
Dad was always friendly and he could, and would, talk to anyone. He could talk about anything and he seemed to have knowledge of any subject you could think of but he never forced that knowledge on you - he let you discover things on your own but always helped you if you asked. Dad met my mum at Dundas and Wilson, the big law firm that they both worked at and they were married in 1969. By all accounts, he doted on my cousins and Marshall's 3 girls, so I imagine he was particularly happy, though perhaps a little apprehensive, to find himself the father of twins. Unfortunately, because of my mum's health, she had to spend the last months of her pregnancy in hospital. Mum was the envy of the other women in the the ward though, because, without fail, every morning before work and every evening after work, Dad would visit. Nothing else mattered to him - my Dad loved my mum with all of his heart. As my Mum likes to tell Becky every so often, Dad used to bring her flowers every week throughout their married life, again, without fail. I like to think that there's a lot of my Dad's character in mine but I only ever occasionally remember to buy flowers!
After I left school, Dad and I went on a couple of fishing trips to the Highlands. When I was 17 or 18 we borrowed my Aunt's car for a trip to Lochinver in Sutherland. Unfortunately, it rained continually the entire time we were there. We were using an ancient tent which couldn't keep out the elements and Dad spent the first night sleeping in a puddle. Needless to say, for our next trip, we used a modern tent. I think Dad was a bit surprised at how small it was though. I often wish we'd taken more trips together but I spent most of my 20s living in England. Dad retired when he was 65 but continued to work part-time for several years after.
In 50 years of work, he never had more than a day or two of absence but unfortunately, it all seemed to catch up with him a few years ago. He was very tenacious though, and refused to simply give in and he managed to hang on a lot longer than we might have hoped. I'm glad he did, despite it all, since he got to meet all 4 of his grandchildren, which I hope gave him some comfort. I know they would have adored him. My Dad was the gentlest, kindest, warmest man you could hope to meet. He was a man whose worst character traits were no more than a refusal to read road signs and a tendency to take too many photographs of the scenery. He always had a big smile for everyone and I can't imagine that anyone who ever knew him would have had a bad word to say about him.
You were a wonderful Dad - I hope I can be even half as good. Dad, I love you and I miss you, and I'll miss you every day until I too am gone.
