I wrote this to my father when I was a little boy, when he was away on one of his holidayswith his pals Eric Yearsly and Tommy Ford. They used to go to Portland Bill and , I suspect, live it up.
Mum and we four kids would be at home, mum scratching around trying to find enough money to feed and clothe us whilst Dad was away boozing and acting big throwing money around. This letter shows the innocence and trust of a child in a parent who would soon be home again to shout and roar and frighten him and his mum and siblings. I still bleed from the emotional wounds this bastard inflicted
on me. Incidentally, I expect the new boots and "lether boot lases" were paid for by my darling Gran.
It beats me why a man such as my father , who was possessed of considerable intelligence, was unable to see how he was behaving and exercise some control over himself. This letter was found among his effects after he died, a stupid , selfish person who wasted the years that could have been so happy.
4 comments:
Hello 'M'
Children are so forgiving are'nt they, my Father too was of the same, he did want 'water to pass under the bridge' when I grew older, a child never forgets. I believe it to have a somewhat lasting influence on our souls.
Camilla.
Hi Mick
I've just read your 'dad' piece with very mixed feelings and loads of interest. I don't go back to those bad old days very much - only to balance it with something else that might be going on in my life, or someone else's. I did get a message and prescence from him during a spiritual reading and he was very contrite and realised that he hadn't shown his love for us when he was around. Sorry's OK. Doesn't excuse the pain and terror he inflicted on his family though.
I think he lived a life of huge aspirations and wishes to be someone he wasn't, that never materialised and subsequently built into an incurable frustration with his lot in life. Drink helped. Within the four walls of his kitchen he was king! He controlled it. Everything bad happened in that kitchen. Strangely, the worst thing that could happen to him happened there too. He was older. So was I. A row developed and I stood up to him. He squared up to me and I shoved him backwards, over the deck chair and he fell in the corner by the Rayburn. I always think he crumpled in body and spirit that day. Me being me, I felt sorry for him. Still do. But then I feel sorry for all of us. I still reflect on the good stuff- try to find redeeming qualities within that rather sad man. It's food for thought that this angry, frustrated and tormented father of ours, actually kept that beautiful letter of yours.
Dave
Dear old Dave, I remember that "incident in the kitchen. I agree with everything you say. I've had him leave messages twice too whilst visiting mediums, always expressing contrition. I really must grow up.
Grow up? No, don't grow up. Growing up is growing old! Live life as close to the way you want to and can do, keep a sense of humour, stay close to those you love - and tell them that you do (often) and let unresolved stuff from the past go for now. I reckon that'll all get sorted another time.
And keep those photos coming!
Dave
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