Doing what Dads do best. Here’s to you Mr. Morgan

December 3, 2012

How I remember him as a child

How I remember him as a child

It was two years ago yesterday that my father died. From having been a physically and mentally active octagenarian, he became unwell and absolutely detested the loss of mobility and the weakness it brought. He fought it with every muscle fibre he had, dragging himself up the stairs to shower, and insisting to walk to the shops in an effort to keep the musles strong. But once he had the terminal diagnosis he refused treatment and died within a week. Not for him to cling on to life at all costs, he could not have borne the dependency. He repeatedly told us what a lucky life he’d had despite having served in the war on the Atlantic convoys giving the order to fire at the German U-boats and watching as the poor German submariners froze to death in the sea. And being on shore leave when his ship went down with all hands, killing every single man that he had been serving with for the previous 18 months. But like many of his generation he did not dwell on the awfulness but tried to make sure he made the most of his time here.

People say you feel liberated when your parents die. At last, the reproving looks and concerns about upsetting them are not there. But I didn’t have that kind of relationship with Dad. I worshipped him as a child and moved to enjoying him as an adult. And now I miss him. He managed to leave the disciplining and all that kind of stuff virtually entirely to my mother so he was never the one who had to disapprove or was disappointed by exam results. Even if he was. But what I thank him most for is the unconditional love he showed me. Even when I seemed on a collision course with life.

And although he had never been a touchy-feely, huggy kind of Dad, or ever said he loved me, I knew he did.   And that kind of security gave me a confidence to face the world. When you know someone who you respect believes in you, despite knowing all about you, then it allows you to believe in yourself.

He always said that my sister and I were his greatest achievements. Hope we can do his memory proud.


5 Responses to “Doing what Dads do best. Here’s to you Mr. Morgan”

  1. […] previous blogs about him are here, here  here and […]

  2. Kate Morgan Says:

    He wasn’t touchy feely, but he had eyes that adored, and ways of being that voiced it better than words I suspect. We knew. The liberation is not something I feel at all eiter and I too miss him badly, and at the strangest times he pops into my head and heart. So he’s still often there fo me if not in the way I’d really love him still to be.

  3. Cecilie Says:

    Dont’ stop writing about your Dad, Sarah, obviously he will be your greatest inspiration for times do come also! I find the best things you have written to be the stories of your dear father. It is a well, and you prove that every time.
    I am so sorry I missed out this weekend, not to see you and the other lot. Such is life, but here we go!

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