Letter to my Parents
It is somewhat strange to realise that Mum you left us 30 years ago today.
Equally harder to know Dad this day would have been your 104th Birthday.
But I remember you both constantly.
Mum I remember the fear in Lorraine’s voice when she found you. Dad in hospital and you were alone. How I found you asleep in the lounge, and my deep despair knowing you would never wake as I said my last words to you.
I remember being your little boy, your disappointment at times with my naughtiness. I remember the cat Tiger and the Budgie Paddy. I remember your fear when I lost my sight and your worry at other times when I was rushed to hospital. I remember your pride in my singing in the choir championships or when I would be dressed in parade uniform. And I remember how when I was young you would tuck me in at night.
Dad I remember many things from you. From your tricks to survive in the bush or of watching John Wayne together on TV, and you playing records on the stereo on Sundays. The fun you made when I gave you a lolly cigar, and your grin when I talked about my rifle shooting. I remember that just as I started to work you came to retirement and I was sad for you. I know you wished you could have been a more active dad and of your disappointment in the Army saying no. But I remember the pride on your face at my graduation and your joyfulness at my wedding.
You both gave me much more than I deserved, and although I know there were bad times it was the simple moments that were the good ones that stand out, and I stand where I am now because of where I came from and who you hoped I would be. Sadly now the time has been so long and you have missed so much and you are missed by those who loved you.
But I hope in putting this out to the world, that I am saying it to you both. I miss you, I thank you and I remember.