You know when there's alway a day that is etched in your memory and you remember the date, the place, the time - this day is up there in the top 5. I had my first Saturday job aged 15 (older than you Kenny by all of 6 months !) and mum and dad came into my work, mum absolutely distraught, and told me Uncle Jimmy had died. He had a soft spot in my mum's heart from the day he was born and her face always lit up when she spoke about him. This was my first encounter with family bereavement and all I remember is the heavy burden of sadness. The church, to which our primary school was attached, was sombre and solemn, with the only sounds being the weeping of the loved ones. We were children, young teenagers, without the sass of the teenagers today and we were lost. Even now I have goosebumps thinking back to that day and to the loss of one of the most gentle and kind people to have been part of my life x
Thank you, Fiona, those words bring it all back. I admit it wasn't until much later that I began to realise the effect my dad's death had on people other than me, my brother and my Mum. At the time the world felt very small. I came to appreciate the place he had in the affections of the family as a whole, as well as my schoolmates and family friends. Over the years this has been a tremendously nourishing part of the experience of dealing with loss.
Funny (or not) - I lost my father before his time. He was just a few days off his 51st birthday and I was two weeks or so past my 26th. But I had the same countdown - over the years, then months, then weeks and days - until I had lived longer then him.
A friend of mine whose dad died early did the same.
I crossed the line a few weeks and I just felt relief that I’d made it and in reasonably good nick.
Kenny , wonderful article - what gets me is the last paragraph 'cos I missed that with my dad, first time in a pub with my dad I was 19, my dad was dying, awful fast , with cancer. I never got to ask all of the questions and have all of the conversations. I have not made that mistake with my son and daughter, to my eternal joy.
It was nice to bump into you that time a bit ago. Didn't realise you lived locally. Let me know if you ever fancy meeting up for a coffee and a natter. I'd enjoy talking through some of your op-eds.
Strange, I was just thinking this morning about my dad dying when he was 66 and that I'm now only 8 years away from that. It brings your own mortality into sharp relief. A very poignant piece.
I love this.
You know when there's alway a day that is etched in your memory and you remember the date, the place, the time - this day is up there in the top 5. I had my first Saturday job aged 15 (older than you Kenny by all of 6 months !) and mum and dad came into my work, mum absolutely distraught, and told me Uncle Jimmy had died. He had a soft spot in my mum's heart from the day he was born and her face always lit up when she spoke about him. This was my first encounter with family bereavement and all I remember is the heavy burden of sadness. The church, to which our primary school was attached, was sombre and solemn, with the only sounds being the weeping of the loved ones. We were children, young teenagers, without the sass of the teenagers today and we were lost. Even now I have goosebumps thinking back to that day and to the loss of one of the most gentle and kind people to have been part of my life x
Thank you, Fiona, those words bring it all back. I admit it wasn't until much later that I began to realise the effect my dad's death had on people other than me, my brother and my Mum. At the time the world felt very small. I came to appreciate the place he had in the affections of the family as a whole, as well as my schoolmates and family friends. Over the years this has been a tremendously nourishing part of the experience of dealing with loss.
Terrific Kenny.
Funny (or not) - I lost my father before his time. He was just a few days off his 51st birthday and I was two weeks or so past my 26th. But I had the same countdown - over the years, then months, then weeks and days - until I had lived longer then him.
A friend of mine whose dad died early did the same.
I crossed the line a few weeks and I just felt relief that I’d made it and in reasonably good nick.
There must be so many of us with these milestones, invisible to everyone else.
Kenny , wonderful article - what gets me is the last paragraph 'cos I missed that with my dad, first time in a pub with my dad I was 19, my dad was dying, awful fast , with cancer. I never got to ask all of the questions and have all of the conversations. I have not made that mistake with my son and daughter, to my eternal joy.
Davie , Glasgow
A hard lesson, Davie, but one you took to heart.
Excellent Kenny. I don't think I'd read it at the time it came out. Really lovely.
Very kind of you to say so, Tony.
The H is for Hutson btw. :)
Hi Tony.
It was nice to bump into you that time a bit ago. Didn't realise you lived locally. Let me know if you ever fancy meeting up for a coffee and a natter. I'd enjoy talking through some of your op-eds.
Will do, Tony
Strange, I was just thinking this morning about my dad dying when he was 66 and that I'm now only 8 years away from that. It brings your own mortality into sharp relief. A very poignant piece.
Another beautiful bit of writing about your dad. Thanks for sharing and happy Father's day to you and all dad's.
Thanks Stuart, very kind of you to say so.
Just realised the grocer's apostrophe in dad's. Hiding my head in shame
😆