It's a significant day for me, full of bittersweet memories. On the 17th of May 1926, my Dad was born, in a small town in East Kent. He would have been 100 years old today, if he'd lived, but, heartbreakingly for me, he didn't even manage to get as far as his sixtieth birthday, dying in March 1986 due to heart problems. He was a unremarkable working man, in terms of any impact in the wider world, a coal miner from when he was 14 until he retired early at 58, after having a nearly fatal heart attack in December 1984, but he was a thoroughly good man, calm and friendly, well thought-of by almost everyone who knew him. And, of course, he was my Dad, and I loved him with all my heart. I still miss him, even after all those years. 'The good die young', so they say, and that's certainly true in my Dad's case.
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
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