Dad

It's one of my work colleagues' birthday today, as we found out in the early hours of this morning, which has got me thinking about my dad, because he would have been 85 today, had he still been alive. Sadly, he didn't even make it to 60 - he died in March 1986, at only 59, just a few months after taking early retirement, after 45 years of being a coal miner. Scant reward for such a life.
I hope what I'm going to say isn't going to sound too mawkish, or too tinted by rose-coloured glasses, but he was the nicest man I've ever met. Calm, patient, loving, good company, hard-working, a good husband and father. Far, far nicer than me, that's a certainty. For years after he died, I missed him all the time, even though I'd already left home and didn't actually see him all that often, and, even though time does heal to a point, I still miss him now. I do try, as far as I can, to follow his example as a father, if nothing else. Whether I succeed is really for my daughter to say, probably after I'm dead and gone myself. I hope she'll be able to say that I did something she found beneficial, and that, if she chooses to have children of her own, she can pass on the benefit to the next generation. That, at least, would be some kind of legacy, for me, and for my dad.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B