Waiting for ..........
I'm not sure if Godo will turn up tomorrow, nor do I know who he/she was nor why anyone was waiting for him/her, assuming Godo was a person, and not an event or an inanimate object. I don't suppose it would be too hard to find out, but that's for another day. Today is limbo day. All the logistics organised, and time on my hands.
It's hard to piece together the memories, and maybe that's for another day. But if I was to summarise Dad's life it might go something like........
Born in Standburn, on 30th July 1927. George V was on the throne at the time, and the PM was someone called Stanley Baldwin, (sandwiched between two stints of a Lossie loon, Ramsay MacDonald). More importantly, Newcastle United won the first division that year......not sure if it's happened since? I'm sure he told us he was about 6 when they moved to Fife. Well. to Puddledub near Auchtertool, to be exact. I think it may have changed over the last 86 years.
https://www.puddledub.co.uk
Yes. It's an actual place.
It's hard to know how long they were at the farm, but he made reference to the farm a few weeks ago, saying that he had been busy at the farm the previous day with the lambs, so had stayed the night.....I wonder? The next move was to the metropolis of Burntisland, and 114 Dick Crescent. Not sure when or for how long, but that was home for most of his growing-up years, in 4-in-a-block. A quiet little col-de-sac with good neighbours.
He left school at 14, and started work as a telegram boy with the post office. Who said there was no such thing as a job for life. He loved the post office. Who would have thought that he would one day be in charge of the office, when the post master was a person of some standing in the community. He even got a medal for his services.
I'm not sure when "the meeting" came into his life, but I recall being told about his father's conversion and the pipe being left on the mantlepiece as a symbol of the old/new John, so my guess is that this was the link. A spell in Kirkwall was his overseas posting: aside A job with numbers and money then posted overseas as a young man: did history repeat itself? during the war, and was clearly an influential part of his life, as he often referred back to it and revisited Kirkwall just a few years ago to reminisce. I think it was a good time in his life when he had freedom to be his own person, rather than the person someone else wanted him to be. Perhaps the death of his dad on the 9th Jan 1950 changed all that.....who knows. I can't imagine something like that at the age of 22 would be anything other than life changing. Maybe he never got the chance to have a relationship with his dad other than the childhood one, which I'm sure was based on getting by. Dad was never extravagant. But that wasn't a bad thing.
Growing up, we did family stuff, (so long as it was allowed under the meeting rules), and have holidays, go fishing, have picnics, but I don't ever recall dad doing something that he just wanted to do for the sake of it. He was always more interested in doing things for others, usually mum, but equally it could be delivering first day covers (my collection is his legacy, and appropriately stopped when he wasn't able to get them for us) to old Mrs...... up the castle, or helping someone to fill in some forms that they couldn't understand. This explains why I always came away from the shows on the links with a goldfish, even when the shows were closed. I learned something about respecting people from dad. If someone was illiterate, that didn't mean they were stupid, it just meant they were an opportunity to show kindness. I think it was his way of being Jesus to people, but I'm not sure he thought of it that way....maybe he did......rather I think it was just his Jesusness coming through. (Yes that is a word.....now).
So how do you get 6 people in a Hillman Super Minx? 3 in the front and 3 in the back of course. Cases in the boot and on the roof rack, and off we would go to Girvan, or (as he got more adventurous) Windermere or Scarborough, so long as we weren't missing the meeting on Sunday. I'm sure he believed it was the right thing to do, regardless of the Herb or Jim pressure, and I respect him for that.
He never spoke to me about having to bury his daughter in 1966. Never. Maybe we could have talked it through over a pint, but he never did that either. Ok, my eyes have gone a bit leaky: must move on.
But he only ever wanted the best for his family. I had no idea at 18 the kind of commitment and sacrifice that was involved in sending me to university. I know things were different in the early 80's with grants and things but he never spoke about the cost, or complained about the Sunday night's when he ferried me back to Riccarton. Actually, he never ever spoke about money.
He was a good granda too. He never said much about the three, but you just needed to look at his face when they were around to see the joy he got from them. I don't think he had a favourite, apart from the obvious that one was a girl.......enough said. Because his birthday was in the summer, he would often have three little mouths helping to spit on his cake as the magic candle would keep re-igniting, then helping to devour the cake before it was hidden away in a tin for a fortnight.
And where did he get his long-life genes from? At 91 he was still going round to the post office for the butteries and over to the chemists for the Courier 6 mornings a week. I recall having to rebuke myself for getting annoyed with him some days when I was up to my eyes, knowing that he had nothing to say but just wanted a couple of minutes of my time to say it, and check that I would be round for some soup at lunchtime. Yes, it was always soup. It was just a little part of his routine, and at 91, that's awesome.
Note to self: Do the same thing to my offspring if I ever reach that age, even if it means disrupting a lesson. They will love me for it afterwards.
It's hard to piece together the memories, and maybe that's for another day. But if I was to summarise Dad's life it might go something like........
Born in Standburn, on 30th July 1927. George V was on the throne at the time, and the PM was someone called Stanley Baldwin, (sandwiched between two stints of a Lossie loon, Ramsay MacDonald). More importantly, Newcastle United won the first division that year......not sure if it's happened since? I'm sure he told us he was about 6 when they moved to Fife. Well. to Puddledub near Auchtertool, to be exact. I think it may have changed over the last 86 years.
https://www.puddledub.co.uk
Yes. It's an actual place.
It's hard to know how long they were at the farm, but he made reference to the farm a few weeks ago, saying that he had been busy at the farm the previous day with the lambs, so had stayed the night.....I wonder? The next move was to the metropolis of Burntisland, and 114 Dick Crescent. Not sure when or for how long, but that was home for most of his growing-up years, in 4-in-a-block. A quiet little col-de-sac with good neighbours.
He left school at 14, and started work as a telegram boy with the post office. Who said there was no such thing as a job for life. He loved the post office. Who would have thought that he would one day be in charge of the office, when the post master was a person of some standing in the community. He even got a medal for his services.
I'm not sure when "the meeting" came into his life, but I recall being told about his father's conversion and the pipe being left on the mantlepiece as a symbol of the old/new John, so my guess is that this was the link. A spell in Kirkwall was his overseas posting: aside A job with numbers and money then posted overseas as a young man: did history repeat itself? during the war, and was clearly an influential part of his life, as he often referred back to it and revisited Kirkwall just a few years ago to reminisce. I think it was a good time in his life when he had freedom to be his own person, rather than the person someone else wanted him to be. Perhaps the death of his dad on the 9th Jan 1950 changed all that.....who knows. I can't imagine something like that at the age of 22 would be anything other than life changing. Maybe he never got the chance to have a relationship with his dad other than the childhood one, which I'm sure was based on getting by. Dad was never extravagant. But that wasn't a bad thing.
Growing up, we did family stuff, (so long as it was allowed under the meeting rules), and have holidays, go fishing, have picnics, but I don't ever recall dad doing something that he just wanted to do for the sake of it. He was always more interested in doing things for others, usually mum, but equally it could be delivering first day covers (my collection is his legacy, and appropriately stopped when he wasn't able to get them for us) to old Mrs...... up the castle, or helping someone to fill in some forms that they couldn't understand. This explains why I always came away from the shows on the links with a goldfish, even when the shows were closed. I learned something about respecting people from dad. If someone was illiterate, that didn't mean they were stupid, it just meant they were an opportunity to show kindness. I think it was his way of being Jesus to people, but I'm not sure he thought of it that way....maybe he did......rather I think it was just his Jesusness coming through. (Yes that is a word.....now).
So how do you get 6 people in a Hillman Super Minx? 3 in the front and 3 in the back of course. Cases in the boot and on the roof rack, and off we would go to Girvan, or (as he got more adventurous) Windermere or Scarborough, so long as we weren't missing the meeting on Sunday. I'm sure he believed it was the right thing to do, regardless of the Herb or Jim pressure, and I respect him for that.
He never spoke to me about having to bury his daughter in 1966. Never. Maybe we could have talked it through over a pint, but he never did that either. Ok, my eyes have gone a bit leaky: must move on.
But he only ever wanted the best for his family. I had no idea at 18 the kind of commitment and sacrifice that was involved in sending me to university. I know things were different in the early 80's with grants and things but he never spoke about the cost, or complained about the Sunday night's when he ferried me back to Riccarton. Actually, he never ever spoke about money.
He was a good granda too. He never said much about the three, but you just needed to look at his face when they were around to see the joy he got from them. I don't think he had a favourite, apart from the obvious that one was a girl.......enough said. Because his birthday was in the summer, he would often have three little mouths helping to spit on his cake as the magic candle would keep re-igniting, then helping to devour the cake before it was hidden away in a tin for a fortnight.
And where did he get his long-life genes from? At 91 he was still going round to the post office for the butteries and over to the chemists for the Courier 6 mornings a week. I recall having to rebuke myself for getting annoyed with him some days when I was up to my eyes, knowing that he had nothing to say but just wanted a couple of minutes of my time to say it, and check that I would be round for some soup at lunchtime. Yes, it was always soup. It was just a little part of his routine, and at 91, that's awesome.
Note to self: Do the same thing to my offspring if I ever reach that age, even if it means disrupting a lesson. They will love me for it afterwards.
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