Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue.

Well, this is not the blog post I had planned to write.

I had something all set for the end of January but unfortunately my Dad’s health took a turn for the worst and he ended up in hospital. He was in for a week, and other than on the day he went in, we weren't allowed to visit. They couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong and were worried he was infectious, so he was in isolation.

It turned out to be sepsis and to add insult to injury, literally, the ambulance crew managed to get the trolley stuck trying to load it into the lift at the care home and accidentally broke his shoulder whilst they were freeing it. Not good.

Protocol meant Social Services were informed and procedures had to be gone through, but finally they let Mum visit and eventually Dad was out of hospital. 

He was doing well, eating and refusing to wear his sling (so the care home had to come up with ingenious ways to keep it on!) but all this on top of relentless work deadlines meant blogging was low on the list of my priorities during February. 

By the beginning of March Dad’s health unexpectedly went dramatically down hill again. My Brother and Sister-in-Law were due to go on their lockdown postponed, 30^th anniversary cruise, and I was due to be in Munich for work immediately followed by a trip to Durham for a 50^th birthday party.In the end I decided I couldn’t be away at the same time as them just in case, and cancelled Munich and Durham.

 So instead of talking to prospective students I sat next to my Dad’s bedside for the day whilst Mum read him Harry Potter. The next day I decided I was in need of some space and some air to breathe. I went for a walk to clear my head and as I was heading home Mum called to say Dad was gone. 

My Brother was in the middle of the ocean unreachable, Himself was isolating having tested positive for covid, and my Mum was in no fit state. Which left me to head home with my Mum and begin all that hard life admin. For someone who will always shy away from things, or put them off for as long as possible it was a hell of a baptism.

I have to say Nephew Number One was an absolute star and helped with some things like clearing Dad’s room at the care home but otherwise it was an awful week. 

There was a 5-week delay until we could have the funeral, so we were in a bit of limbo really. Other than wanting a cremation and saying he wanted the service to be a short, sweet celebration and choosing 3 pieces of music Dad hadn’t left any instructions. He had always been a keen advocate of recycling and sustainability, so we went with a wicker coffin and just one floral display. Asking instead for donations to the local air ambulance, a charity he had always supported. 

Dad had chosen Beethoven’s 6^th symphony, music from Harry Potter and Red, Red Wine by Neil Diamond. After much discussion, my brother and I added Endeavour’s Theme. Dad always loved Morse and Endeavour, and independently to each other it seems we are both reminded of him when we hear the theme music. We finished with Barwick Green, or The Archer’s theme tune, another thing Dad enjoyed listening to and a joyous piece of music that summed him up to a tee. 

On the way to the crematorium a single spitfire suddenly appeared and looped the loop in the glorious blue, sun filled sky above us. It felt like a sign. 

My Dad joined the R.A.F at 15 and it was his life. My Nan told the story of taking Dad as a baby with her when she went hop picking during the war. As the Battle of Britain raged in the sky above him, my Dad toddled out and stood open mouthed with wonder watching the dog fights overhead, apparently completely oblivious as shrapnel rained down around him until someone dashed out from where they were sheltering and snatched him back to safety. 

                                                      As a teenage apprentice engine fitter 

He joined up as soon as he could and only left when he had to retire, going straight back to the same job the next day as a civil servant until he was 65. He started out as an engine fitter before training as a navigator, then further training as special air crew, finishing 'flying a desk' organising flypasts and airshows.  

          On his retirement he was given a flight in the last airworthy Lancaster, the smile says it all.

 

It was a beautiful funeral, but I have to say the day broke me. I think the long wait until the day was part of it, but also I was a self confessed Daddy’s girl as a child. As an adult we stayed extremely close, he was my sounding board, my rock and I miss him dreadfully.  

So yes, since then I have had good days and bad days. 

Work has been relentlessly shit this year too, but at the moment I don’t seem to have the energy to do anything about that other than plod on through that. One thing at atime.

Anyway, I have been feeling like getting back to blogging, so normal service will be resumed, it might still be sporadic but then to be fair that has been the case for a while now.

                                                My favourite pictures of Dad as a young man.