I’D WALK A MILLION MILES FOR ONE OF YOUR SMILES

I drove up from Rye to Waterbeach yesterday for my weekly catch-up with Dad in his care home, finding him uncharacteristically asleep without finishing his Sunday roast and an attractive looking sponge pudding and custard.

He never woke up, and died (“promoted to glory”) peacefully late last night at 91, only a few hours after his cousin and neighbour who’d only been admitted to Hatley Court a week previously, and just after his beloved Salvation Band had played for them that morning.

Keith always had the best smile, a lesson in cheerfulness to all, and enjoyed being ferried to numerous Fenland pubs and museums in his last years.

I hope I inherited his cheeriness, if not his good looks,

which he kept despite Mum’s cooking and his own love for Chinese takeaways.

Dad would be the first to say “Life goes on”, so I’ll be back with you tonight with matters of less life and death importance.

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Published by retiredmartin

Retired NHS, doing long walks around UK and the world to record the great bits. Focused on Good Beer Guide pubs and live music.

37 thoughts on “I’D WALK A MILLION MILES FOR ONE OF YOUR SMILES”

  7. All the best to you and the family. From your posts there was a lot of warmth to him. I’m sure you’ll all have some lovely memories to hold close as time goes by.

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    1. My dad used to delivery veg to the Cambridge colleges and restaurants, including the very early Chinese restaurants in town. Visiting the smart one in Burleigh Street with net curtains was my parents main indulgence.

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  12. You manage to write such an uplifting post on an inescapably sad thing Martin and I can’t praise that enough.

    Love and best wishes to you and yours from M and S. (No not the shop but it’s even worse the other way round…)

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  20. Very sorry to learn about your dad, Martin, but have only just learned the news. As usual, I haven’t been keeping up, as there’s a lot going on at the moment, on several different fronts.

    Some lovely photos there, and especially good that you were able to be with your father, at the end. Take care. Kentish Paul.

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  21. So sorry for your loss, Martin. A Dad’s a Dad. We only get one. And even though mine drives me up the wall, I know I’ll miss the cantankerous old git when the time comes.

    Keep remembering the good times. There are always more than you think.

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      1. He’s never been much of pub goer, unless it’s for lunch.

        That aside, he did give me my first ever beer, at a family gathering/barbecue when I was about 13, with the wise words “Here you go, son. Don’t let your Mother catch you drinking it!”

        I even remember what it was: a can of Peter Dominic pilsner. The price sticker on the base said 29p!

        It was both the nastiest and most wonderful drink I’d ever had!

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  23. I’m very sorry to read the news about your father, Martin. We know the day will eventually arrive but it’s still a shock when it does. Best wishes to you and yours from West Sussex.

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      1. Bognor is certainly a place that lives up to its name!

        Earlier this year we had a couple of days in a shepherd’s hut near Camber. The Pontin’s at Camber Sands was somewhere our folks took us in the mid 70s but it closed in recent years. Amazing to think what we enjoyed in apparently simpler times. We even tolerated multiple train changes (my parents never learned to drive); it was Chatham to Stroud, then Stood to Maidstone West, then walk to Maidstone East to get to Paddock Wood, then from there to Rye where a bus would pick us up. Took about four hours when we could have driven it in less than half. And we never got to stop for a swift half in between trains! (although I was only 9).

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  24. So sorry to hear this Martin, my thoughts are with you and your family. Such wonderful words you’ve written at an impossible time. Take care of yourself.

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