I Miss Father

Father would have been 88 today. I miss him so much. I've written about him before. I've posted in exasperation when he was alive, and I've shared stories. I saw him rescue someone from a burning building. He sometimes wore a falso moustache to church. He went his own way and you couldn't tell him otherwise, but he wouldn't argue about it. He would smile, nod and then do whatever it was that he wanted. He looked outward at life. I could learn a lot from memories of him.

I went for a drive today. I didn't have a destination in mind so I just drove. I headed south past Huddersfield, resisted the temptation to go over the Peninnes towards Rochdale, resisted the temptation to head to the wilds of South Yorkshire and Sheffield (all on the back roads), passed through Holmfirth but didn't see a good parking place and then tried to get back home. I went four times around Huddersfield town centre, nearly ended up in a restricted road, headed towards Bradford and ended up in Sainsburys car park in Brighhouse after driving non stop for two hours. Then I worked out how to get home and eventually, after some serious hill work in low gears, got here. According to Google maps timeline, I did 48.8 miles. I felt much better afterwards.

Father enjoyed driving as much as he enjoyed going places. He drove us all over as kids, for hours and hours at a time, and he didn't really get stressed, even at the strange roundabouts at Telford. I think I may have inherited that. Just driving around on strange roads was actually incredibly relaxing (even Huddersfield centre). And I don't really suffer from road rage. Bear is disappointed in how little I beep my horn, even under strong provocation, but father never did the stress and I don't tend to. I also suspect I have picked up his bad habit of coasting to a stop and I will pay for it in gear boxes. I wouldn't dream of coasting down hill or on any stretch of road, but I get the clutch down far too early when it comes to traffic lights.

When I got home there were various people sobbing at different parts of the street. I would have ran in, but my knee has really given way, so I limped in as quick as I could and made it without being intercepted.  I think I shall have a quiet night with considerable quantities of alcohol, in the memory of father.