Just a poem to try and explain where I have come from
Less than one minute read time.
FormerMember
Another father Tale.
Father’s propensity to alcohol
Was directly proportional to his love of life
And inversely proportional to his life of love
(And his propensity to alcohol was certainly not because of the taste)
His intelligence was without doubt
And what he lacked in common-sense
Was more than compensated by his joie de vivre
(His joie de vivre was off the Richter Scale for earthquakes)
To put in bluntly Father was a party animal
No! Father was THE party animal
Who could party till he dropped-which he actually did
(Several times)
After one of his many heart attacks
We found ourselves being interviewed by an extremely arrogant
World renowned heart specialist
(His middle name was Mr. Cardiovascularcoronarythoracic)
Whose main concern was not father’s medical condition
But the fact that father had called him “Sonny Boy”
When he was in fact number two to God himself
(Or perhaps God had stood aside)
Father’s philosophy was simple
Unlike his life itself
Which was “live for today” for tomorrow might never come
(And one day his tomorrow never came)
We were sorry when he went
After living several lives
But we have been left richer for all his adventures
(Even those who never knew him)
FormerMember
I really like that. How long ago was that? Not so many consultants think they are God nowadays, but some still try to pull rank when a cleaner tells them to wash their hands.
Your father sounds like a man worth knowing. I'm glad you have benefited from his experiences and your own experiences of him.
He died in 1983 after several heart attacks. His remark when he called the insultant "Sonny boy" was when he was told to stop amoking. He said "Listen sonny boy, I started smoking when I was fighting the Japanese in Burma and I have tried to stop." The insultant was extremely abrupt with him and with me and my brother.
When my mother was being treated for breast cancer - she had a radical mastecomy and then got bone cancer. Again the insultant made her do things that she did because she wanted to believe that she was getting better including standing on one leg and hopping. There was no need for it - there was no medical reason for it and she suffered so badly afterwards. She died in 1973 aged 54 in the most appalling of circumstances.
