My Dad died forty two years ago this week.
When you think about it, the bloke who is now supposedly leading our country wasn’t to be born for another three years. It sort of puts the time-span in perspective?
He was a very quiet man. I never heard him raise his voice above a gruff rumble and that was only after I had done something particularly stupid. His was always the calming voice of reason and he seemed to have the answer to every problem.
I have thought of him more frequently over the last wee while. When a major tempest hits the normally calm family seas he is the one I would have turned to for advice and even just a quiet word. But he isn’t there any more and the buck – as they say – stops with me. The only resources I can call upon are my own.
It’s tough at the top.