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| My Dad 31/10/1952 - 06/02/2017 |
On 6th February, after what had been a relatively gentle (if energy-sapping and uncomfortable) couple of years of chemotherapy, my Dad died from cancer. He was at home, he'd seen all his children within the last twelve hours, he was still himself and had been managing his discomfort with just paracetamol, and he had a quiet faith you could move mountains with. I hope I have as confident a passing. It was about as good an end (under the circumstances) as I could have wished for him, but too soon - he was only 64.
Among many other, more important, things that he taught me and did for me I have a couple of gaming related anecdotes appropriate for this blog. First, he taught me chess. Second, he and Mum are responsible for my gaming interests by pretty much teaching me to read with Arthurian and Greek legends, the Mabinogion, and Tolkien. Oh, and the Dragonriders of Pern. My first cinema experience was to see the full Star Wars trilogy with him - you get the idea. My "get well soon" present after having my tonsils and adenoids out was the red box Basic D&D starter set from the BECMI edition. I could also look forward to another expansion for Talisman each Christmas, followed by WFB4 when I was a little older.
I clearly remember him queuing with me and my younger brother (and regular gaming opponent) in about 1991/1992 in the Manchester GW store in one of their sales, for one of the few moments our pocket money would stretch to gaming materiel. He started humming Latin plainsong in a (successful) attempt to embarrass the twelve/thirteen-year-old me. I can't remember what I got now, but my brother got a couple of dwarf gyrocopters.
Another time, I'd manage to mess up meeting friends in Stockport to watch a film (before mobile phones, remember), so he and I spent a happy hour or so mooching about in the GW store waiting for the next train home while the manager raved about the new edition of Bloodbowl. I guess that makes it 1994.
Happy memories. Thanks, Dad; save a space for me up there.
I hope I can be half as good a dad to my two boys as your dad was to you. I lost my mum to cancer (59) and only yesterday an old roleplaying buddy (mid 40s). Let's all give what we can to cancer research - we've got to beat it. Padre
ReplyDeleteThanks, Padre. Like anyone else he had his flaws, but he's set the bar high for my own parenting. I'm sorry to hear about your mother and your friend - cancer charities have shot up the list for my own giving, that's for certain.
DeleteYou have written a lovely piece. I'm glad you Father passed peacefully and said his goodbyes. That is very important.
ReplyDeleteThanks Phil. Yes, without that peacefulness and sense of completion, it would have been a lot harder for all of us.
DeletePhil found the right words first. Rab, I'm glad you are able to recognize the grace right in the midst of a sad time--and there is grace in that too. Thank you for your willingness to share.
DeleteYou're right, Jarrett. There's always grace, even if it can be hard to spot at the time, but that somehow makes it even more valuable. I'm not expressing myself well... words aren't quite suited for describing the ineffable, are they?
DeleteRab, my deepest condolences. But the finest monument to your father is the way you've dedicated yourself raising your own children. He must have been a fine man.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Herbert. He was.
DeleteTough times fella, but awesome write up of fond memories.
ReplyDeleteCheers Ben. Funnily, it's brought a lot of good memories flooding back.
DeleteYou have my sympathy, Mr. Rab. I have been and will again be in similar places; both the good and the bad. Your father sounds like a true gent who helped to give you a great start. (The similarity to my own in most of the details doesn't color my basic red-box opinion at all. Why do you ask?) Take care. And well said sir. It helps me to hear it.
ReplyDeleteThanks, TC. I guess as we grow older, so do those around us with everything that brings. I'm glad if it brought you any comfort to read this.
DeleteIt did, yes. I wish I could do the same. It . . . never gets easy exactly, but I've found that in time the good memories assume a greater proportion of the total and the bad ones lose a little of their acuity. We're apparently similar enough in age there's sadly decent odds you already knew that first hand. But suffice it to say you are in my thoughts. Good luck and take care sir.
DeleteA lovely piece about a lovely man.
ReplyDeleteAlan
Thanks Alan
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ReplyDeleteI'm really sorry, Matthew, I managed to delete your comment while scrolling through new comment in my dashboard - very irritating that there is no "undo" function or second step to the delete process.
DeleteFrom what I saw before my mis-click, thank you for your kind words. We're coping pretty well and, thanks to the man he was, memories are uncomplicated and bring a fond smile.