90

Dad would have been 90 yesterday if he’d lived.

I still miss him so much and wish he could be around to experience the little things of life. I’d love to invite him over to see our new house. I know he’d be so thrilled to see how well Emily and James are doing as they grow into the amazing young people that they are.

This time of year is not only a time of remembering the anniversary of dad’s birth but also of his death.

In August of 2002, dad was seriously ill in hospital. Although he was a Christian in his teens, he had not followed Christ after his service as a cook in the second world war.

As he put it he “made his peace with Jesus” while in hospital. In the week following his decision he talked about going home to Jesus his Saviour and of seeing his wife again. (Mum passed away in 1987.) Our family had never heard dad talk that way before. There had been a huge change in him.

On Saturday at the end of that week he was in a pretty bad way. We went to the hospital to visit and he wasn’t really there. Most of the time he was in a very deep sleep. James was just three and a half at the time and I held him in my arms beside the bed. James then started to sing Amazing Grace. It was a song that I would sing to James as I put him to bed each night. I joined James quietly to help him with the words. Dad opened his eyes and acknowledged us there. We stayed a little longer and then headed home. Dad passed away that night just a few days before his 83rd birthday.

We were the last visitors to see dad and I imagine the last thing he would have seen and heard while on this earth was a very small boy, his grandson, singing about the Amazing Grace that he now knows so well.

(Dad was a chef and continued cooking well after his retirement. The photo in this post was him working in the kitchen of the retirement home where he lived in his final years.)

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