General Chat

My Dad was very popular in the pub circles, he had so many friends, he never shouted or raised his voice to me. He used to have long hair and as a child I used to plait it, and bless him he used to leave it in like that all day!!! I remember him sitting on the bed playing guitar, he worked very hard, he was a builder you know..........and he was terrified of frogs!!! I only have nice memories of Dad, I was only a baby when Mom left him and I only had contact with him until I was about 4, so for me I have and always had to be attached to him spiritually, we lost Dad in 1992, so I can never make up for lost time ~ the biggest regret of my life. But through Mediums I have had messages and he is very proud of me....for all the time I give to help others like me.

i was always a daddys girl and i still am. my dad wasnt strict,infact he was soft as butter. i could wrap him round my little finger lol. every saturday when my school friends went to town i went to work with my daddy. he was a mechanic and used to fix the fork lifts at the london docks. we used to stop off at greasy joes cafe for a fry up,oh they were the days lol. my dad is still special. hes now 78 but is a full time carer for my lovely mum. daddy i love you susie xx

Just wanted to say thank you, cousin Tony, for this.

Things our father taught us. If you don't climb the mountain, You can't see the view. It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice. Ideas are funny things. They don't work unless you do. Leisure is a beautiful garment, but it will not do for constant wear. Never judge a man's actions until you know his motives. There is nothing more terrifying than ignorance in action. Some people never make a mistake, nor do they ever make anything else. Faith with works is a force. Faith without works is a farce. The only thing worse than a quitter is the man who is afraid to start. Our words may hide our thoughts, but our actions will reveal them. No farmer ever plowed a field by turning it over in his mind. The right angle to approach a difficult problem is the 'try-angle.' Age has nothing to do with learning new ways to be stupid. The awkward age is when you are too old for the Peace Corps and too young for Social Security. An alarm clock is a device for awakening people who don't have small children. Youth looks ahead, old age looks back, and middle age looks tired. Peace may cost as much as war, but it's a better buy. True love doesn't consist of holding hands...it consists of holding hearts. Love is the only game that two can play and you'll either have two winners or two losers. Men fight for freedom and then start making laws to get rid of it.

My Dad 'Bill' Was born 27th August 1916 when he was two years old and his father was away fighting in WW1, bills mother (my grandmother) was found murdered, she was 23 years of age, bill was bought up by elderly grandparents his father remarried and had other children and I don't think he ever lived with them. 'Bill joined the army in Nov 1940, he was in the 4th Indian Div of The Eighth Army (Desert Rats) and fought in North Africa and El Alamein and was wounded at Montecassino to me he was the bravest soldier ever. Bill passed away in 1974 aged 57. I remember how he loved going to the Cinema and would take me on Sunday afternoon to the Elephant or Troc and he would take his silk hankie from his pocket and lick it and wipe my face (how I hated that) but I still have that hankie and I sometimes look at it and like this moment it all comes flooding back. I love and miss him. Carolx

When God Created Fathers When the good Lord was creating fathers, He started with a tall frame. And a female angel nearby said, 'What kind of father is that? If you’re going to make children so close to the ground, why have you put fathers up so high? He won’t be able to shoot marbles without kneeling, tuck a child in bed without bending, or even kiss a child without a lot of stooping.' And God smiled and said, 'Yes, but if I make him child size, who would children have to look up to?' And when God made a father’s hands, they were large and sinewy. And the angel shook her head sadly and said, 'Do You know what You’re doing? Large hands are clumsy. They can’t manage diaper pins, small buttons, rubber bands on pony tails or even remove splinters caused by baseball bats.' God smiled and said, 'I know, but they’re large enough to hold everything a small boy empties from his pockets at the end of a day…yet small enough to cup a child’s face.' Then God molded long, slim legs and broad shoulders. The angel nearly had a heart attack. 'Boy, this is the end of the week, all right,' she clucked. 'Do You realize You just made a father without a lap? How is he going to pull a child close to him without the kid falling between his legs?' God smiled and said, 'A mother needs a lap. A father needs strong shoulders to pull a sled, balance a boy on a bicycle or hold a sleepy head on the way home from the circus.' God was in the middle of creating two of the largest feet anyone had ever seen when the angel could contain herself no longer. 'That’s not fair. Do You honestly think those large boats are going to dig out of bed early in the morning when the baby cries? Or walk through a small birthday party without crushing at least three of the guests?' And God smiled and said, 'They’ll work. You’ll see. They’ll support a small child who wants to 'ride a horse to Banbury Cross' or scare off mice at the summer cabin, or display shoes that will be a challenge to fill.' God worked throughout the night, giving the father few words, but a firm authoritative voice; eyes that see everything, but remain calm and tolerant. Finally, almost as an afterthought, He added tears. Then He turned to the angel and said, 'Now are you satisfied that he can love as much as a mother?' And the angel shutteth up!

My Dad is 97 and had to go into a nursing home in the summer as he is becoming increasingly frail and kept falling over. Even with our support and carers he no longer felt safe so decided to go into the Grange. He is very well cared for but I hate seeing him there. Although his body is frail his brain is as alert as it ever was and we enjoy conversations about world events, family stuff, his war service, the job he loved and something we both love - poetry. He instilled in me a love of the written language (he was an English teacher) and one of our favourite poets is Dylan Thomas. This poem of his sums up how I am feeling about my Dad - DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Gwynne

My dad died when I was 10 but what I remember most about him was that he was a big softie full of cuddles and fun, he was only 5ft tall we used to call him Papa Smurf lol. He was a great animal lover and we had loads of pets rabbits, mice, hamsters, dogs, budgies and finches (he used to breed them) guinea pigs, ducks, quails and fish my mum used to dread him coming back from the pet shop. Every morning the first thing I would hear was him playing with our dog Susie and when he died I really missed it. He was always joking about and playing tricks on us, I remember when video recorders first came out and dad told us when it was recording we all couldn't make a sound or it would record our voices, he had us going for months even mum lol He always wore a shirt and tie even when he took us fishing, I guess it was from his army life. Dad contracted TB whilst serving in the army in the Korean War and this was the main contributor of his death, I will never forget that day when I came home from school and saw the ambulance outside our house and the doctor fighting to save dads life but sadly he didn't suceed and I lost my beloved dad. Even though I lost him at an early age I still remember loads about him and have constant reminders of him every time I look in the mirror or at my children as we all look so much like him. Jackiexx

This is a subject to much in my heart at the moment. I might respond tomorrow but for now I can't. Tracyx Update I'm breaking my heart over these words on this threadx

A little girl needs Daddy For many, many things: Like holding her high off the ground Where the sunlight sings! Like being the deep music That tells her all is right When she awakens frantic with The terrors of the night. Like being the great mountain That rises in her heart And shows her how she might get home When all else falls apart. Like giving her the love That is her sea and air, So diving deep or soaring high She'll always find him there.

My Dad...........is my world..(as is my mum..) I know i could never ever love another man as much as i love my dad. i know......obviously...the love you have for a BF,Husband is a diff love.... But my dad is the ONLY MAN i WILL EVER TRUST WITH MY HEART.......... the only man that i know........... will love me.......... no matter whatx;0)xxxx Tony...........xxx u got me hon....tears xxxxxxxxx ps.i'm lucky...i still have himxxxxxxxxxx

I have so many stories about my Dad .....and One day I will share ....but until then can I say .......make the best of them, they won't always be there Jac

JFG 1913 - 2004 (loved and missed every day) Many wonderful memories, here is but one . . . Its 1957 . . I'm waiting for my 7th birthday in a few days time - lying on a tarp in a 'dug out' by the Darling River near Wilcannia . . We have been fishing and swimming all day - have had a feast of fresh fish, damper and Billy tea, and now we are learning all about the stars from our Dad . . . I never look into the evening sky without thinking of my Dad, and when I pass on what I know of the stars to my childeren or friends I am remembering my Dad and his wise words. luv Laurie (thanks Tony xo)

Gee thanks folks, now all my mascara is smudged. Tony that was such a lovely story. Libby, my positive thoughts for you and your Mum. i am sure your Dad will be watching over you both and trying to will strength in to you both. Chris, you must have felt ten feet tall! And as for the poem, well I am in bits! My Dad and I didn't always get on, both very headstrong, and I lost him to lung cancer in 1990 when I was 43. The best gift I ever gave him was his beloved grandson, my lad, but sadly they only shared 7 years of life. They were so close tho, and it was obvious how much pleasure my Dad got from having my son around. I was the only girl in the family and born after my first brother was stillborn. Dad moved back to Mum's home city with her after it happened as my Mum and Gran didn't get on. Dad didn't see a lot of his family after that, as he never had a car, don't even know if he drove, I think he must have known how as I have pictures of him in Palestine and Egypt in army trucks etc. I think I was the apple of his eye till my brothers came along, I know most of the family photos are of me and my dad when I was small, then my dad and bro in the garden, I was brought up to do the female stuff while my brothers didn't have to do household tasks. My Dad wasn't a demonstrative man and I got more wallops than hugs but I know when I was small and left my teddy at my aunt's house one snowy Christmas, after our family had walked home with my brother in a pram and me on the end of it, and found teddy was missing, my Dad cycled back to fetch it for me. I also recall when I developed an odd allergy rash on my hands and feet at the age of 11, my Dad tried all sorts of remedies to stop the dreadful itching, getting me Fuller's Earth cream to try as one of his work colleagues had suggested it, so he must have spoken to them about me. He also sat up with me when I was very ill with pneumonia as a toddler and had to sleep in the only warm room with a fire, while Mum got some rest upstairs. When I was away from home working, and was coming back for my 21st birthday, I sent home my watch for Dad to fix (he was good at mending all sorts of things including my shoes!) Although he fixed it, he actually also went shopping and bought me a dear little watch (not hugely expensive but sweet) as an extra 21st gift. Even my Mum was surprised as he wasn't a keen shopper. I suppose all these things means he did love me even tho he never really was demonstrative. A few days before he died, before the morphine got too strong for lucidity, he told my Mum he loved us all. I missed him more than I realised I would. Now I am working on the family tree of his side of the family I am learning more of his life and at last thinking of him as a little boy with hopes and dreams as we all have when young, and having visited the village again where he was brought up, at last I thought of my Dad as a person and not just my Dad. Rest in Peace, Dad. See you again. Liz

I was about 14 or 15 - still at school but for some reason I had to meet Dad in town - as I drew near the meeting place and Daddy walked towards me - he raised his hat to me!! I was a grown up lady immediately and never ever forgot it. He died when I was just 21 and as he spent most of his life at sea did not really get to know him. To those who do not realise the significance of the hat raising this was in the days when a gentleman on seeing/greeting a lady of his acquaintance raised his hat, doors were opened, ladies were shown first into seats and gentlemen stood up when a lady entered a room or were introduced.

Tis is the saddest thing ive ever read A dad's poem Her hair was up in a pony tail, her favorite dress tied with a bow. Today was Daddy's Day at school, and she couldn't wait to go. But her mommy tried to tell her, that she probably should stay home. Why the kids might not understand, if she went to school alone. But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say. What to tell her classmates of why he wasn't there today. But still her mother worried, for her to face this day alone. And that was why once again, she tried to keep her daughter home. But the little girl went to school eager to tell them all. About a dad she never sees a dad who never calls. There were daddies along the wall in back, for everyone to meet. Children squirming impatiently, anxious in their seats. One by one the teacher called a student from the class. To introduce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed. At last the teacher called her name, every child turned to stare. Each of them was searching, a man who wasn't there. 'Where's her daddy at?' she heard a boy call out. 'She probably doesn't have one,' another student dared to shout. And from somewhere near the back, she heard a daddy say, 'Looks like another deadbeat dad, too busy to waste his day.' The words did not offend her, as she smiled up at her Mom. And looked back at her teacher, who told her to go on. And with hands behind her back, slowly she began to speak. And out from the mouth of a child, came words incredibly unique. 'My Daddy couldn't be here, because he lives so far away. But I know he wishes he could be, since this is such a special day. And though you cannot meet him, I wanted you to know. All about my daddy, and how much he loves me so. He loved to tell me stories. He taught me to ride my bike. He surprised me with pink roses, and taught me to fly a kite. We used to share fudge sundaes, and ice cream in a cone. And though you cannot see him. I'm not standing here alone. 'Cause my daddy's always with me, even though we are apart I know because he told me, he'll forever be in my heart' With that, her little hand reached up, and lay across her chest. Feeling her own heartbeat, beneath her favorite dress. And from somewhere here in the crowd of dads, her mother stood in tears. Proudly watching her daughter, who was wise beyond her years. For she stood up for the love of a man not in her life. Doing what was best for her, doing what was right. And when she dropped her hand back down, staring straight into the crowd. She finished with a voice so soft, but its message clear and loud. 'I love my daddy very much, he's my shining star. And if he could, he'd be here, but heaven's just too far. You see he was a policeman and died just this past year. When airplanes hit the towers and taught Americans to fear. But sometimes when I close my eyes, it's like he never went away.' And then she closed her eyes, and saw him there that day. And to her mothers amazement, she witnessed with surprise. A room full of daddies and children, all starting to close their eyes. Who knows what they saw before them, who knows what they felt inside. Perhaps for merely a second, they saw him at her side. 'I know you're with me Daddy,' to the silence she called out. And what happened next made believers, of those once filled with doubt. Not one in that room could explain it, for each of their eyes had been closed. But there on the desk beside her, was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose. And a child was blessed, if only for a moment, by the love of her shining star. And given the gift of believing, that heaven is never too far. They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them. Thats sad.

Was going to add to this but I am getting all chocked up - Dad died on th.17th March 1983 - still feels raw, especially as my Mum has been diagnosed with colon cancer this week. My Dad was my 'bezzy'. Libby x

My Dad.1919 - 1961 As most dads in the early 50s my own dad was no exception at laying down the law of the roost. All children were to be seated at the dinner table by 5:00 pm sharp.( no exceptions )If you were late,then you went to bed hungry, but you didnt make the same mistake the next night...lol At the Tea table,hands were then placed on the table ( palms up )for inspection before eating. Finger nails were also inspected for cleanliness.You ate what was put in front of you, and if you didnt like it......tough,you went to bed hungry.No one was allowed to eat till our mum was seated.Elbows were not allowed to lean on the table,or you did not slump in the chair,and children were seen but not heard. However,we were allowed to talk at a low tone between ourselves. Before leaving the dinner table you were to ask. May i leave the table,please or thankyou. I did ask him once,as a young 10-11 year old,why we were not allowed to eat till our Mum was seated.? He did explain to me that,our mother had just worked tirelessly over a hot oven and cooker to prepare our meals, and it was good manners to show respect for her hard effort in the kitchen. As children of the 40s-50s it was our first introdution to good manners. My dad was a hard-strict,but also fair man,but you never spoke back to him when he laid down the law.His glassy eyed glare was enough to tell you, that you had stepped over the mark.( I used the same glare on my daughters in the 70s ) It does work....lol After meals he played Football,Cricket,Marbles in the streets with us boys,and we helped him in the Vegetable garden. Every Sunday was pocket money 2d or 3d if you did your chores. The last weekend of every month for my dad,was a Fishing weekend at a river with his mates somewhere out in the bush.I looked forward to the day i turned 9 years old, as that was the age he had given me to be, before i was allowed to go fishing with him and his mates. It was one long easter weekend, and i remember sitting up in the back of the car ( 1946 Morris..i think.? ) squashed in with his mates. My brand new fishing rod in hand,heading for their favourite spot on the Murray or Darling river. It was there i was introduced to my first education of the Australian-English lanquage.......Ya Mongrel,Shee'll be right mate...Ya wanker,and other words i cannot use on an open forum...lol I had never heard my Dad speak like this, but it seemed to make them all laugh. So i laughed too.? It was that Easter Sunday morning when i awoke in the Calico tent,to find 2 small chocolate easter eggs under my pillow,and my dad yelling out to me,that there was a fish on my line. I jumped up half awake, and ran to the river bank.Low and behold,i had pulled my first fish in.( 1958 ) It was very still and lifeless.? and didnt seem to jump around on the line like i had seen on the other rods.( strange ) But i didnt care,as i had caught my first fish.( i was a Fisherman ) It was only as i became a teenager that the penny dropped,and realised,that the fish was put/placed on my hook...dead....by my dad,or his mates, and tossed out into the river.....LOL This was the first of the many Fishing,Hunting and Camping trips around an open fire way out in the scrub, where a 9 year old boy learns to appreciate the difference between a ( serious strict )father,and a loving Dad....He died in 1961 aged 41 of Malignant Hypertension, and to this day, my brother ( 5 years my younger ) still go to the same fishing spots, and celebrate his life with a few beers around an open camp fire. Cheers. Tony Oz....:>)) ( Australia ) ps.Yes,i did put a dead fish on my brothers line,when i took him fishing for the first time....:>))))but i have never told him...He's 54 years old now.

Do you have a favourite childhood or teenage story about your dad.....Was he a strict dad or a softie....Did you know him very well.....or did he die when you were young......Perhaps you would like to add a special moment you shared with your dad.... Please feel free to add your story to the thread........ If your Father was a no good low down SOB...then please start a thread of your own..........Thanks......Cheers. Tony Oz....:>))