As I was going about my business this morning, suddenly a totally unrelated memory popped into my head. It was a memory I hadn’t had for years and years and years. It was a memory of the day my father died. He died at noon in March 1949. I heard him die as my sister Nan and I waited anxiously in another bedroom. Later my mother and I sat on the living room sofa and she told me the sad news. We sadly proceeded to have lunch in the kitchen. In the afternoon I was taken out to Hartwell Farm to get some of their special heart warming soup. I can’t remember who took me – possibly my brother Bob and sister Nan. My sister Ruth would have stayed at home to help my mother with all the things that had to be done.
SUDDENLY
What a sad memory! I didn’t know you had heard him die. What caused his death? It sounds like you had a lot of love around you as your mum and siblings cared for you that day. Such a long time ago and yet does the emotion of that day persist?
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He died of a coronary thrombosis – a heart attack. He felt unwell for a few days preceding. That morning I went off to ski at the local golf course. He was up and dressed and I hugged him goodby at the front door. He kind of winced as if that hurt. I think he was going to go back to bed. Little did I realize that he really was sick.
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