Fathers Day Tribute – Scarred for Life by a Remarkable Dad
The storey we all loved to listen as kids was the one about dad that would explain why his face was covered in what we as kids saw as millions of tiny incisions and scars of which I will tell you all about closer to the finish of my tribute to the best dad a daughter could ever have had. His death at the early age of fifty four occurred as a shock specially when his appointment for the infirmary was to get a plaster cast removed only to bring him dead in the waiting room.
Although our parting came suddenly, the warmest of memories still held a compelling presence in my head for twenty-six years. If I could reverse the time back – I would tell him how sorry I was for the times I took him for granted but unfortunately that self-reproach will be brought to my grave where I know being the good man that he was will be ready and waiting for me at the pearly gates with open arms full of forgiveness.
The thought that comforted me and aided to still the gall I felt was the one that goes “the good die young”.Why are dads unique – why is my dad more remarkable than all other dads, simply because people picture the word special in many several styles. So what do I see different in dad that makes him so special?
Dad and his Fathers Day Gifts served thirty-four years in the army but trouble was brewing up on communist day in Hong Kong where dad was posted. It was the sound of alarm bells that propelled the evacuation into motion for the families living outside the barracks to return to the camp immediately.
8 of us were huddled in the rear of an army wagon with only pillows used for protective cover. We readily followed the order to hold our heads down – the Chinese riot mobs were coming out up from the entrenches that lined the road back to the camp fully armed with all forms of killing instruments – 21 stones went into the wagon on the journey back to camp.
The convoy of trucks that accompanied behind and stopped – now stood burning wrecks.If a barrage of boulders were hurtled into the back of the wagon – just what kind of state was the front of that vehicle in and that of the driver. There were no medals of courage presented to the driver when acknowledgement was delivered by the army officers for his act of valour. The reason why was because he should not have been driving at the time, so all the congratulations went to the wrong man sitting up front.
Until now, I still wonder if we could have lasted that day were it not for the drivers who disobeyed the rules in order to save us.
The outcome of that horrifying day was a truck with no windscreen a driver with no face and eight living bodies that lived to recite the tale – so now you have the conclusion to my story why those millions of pricks and scars, scarred us for life with special memories of dear old dad.
