My Old Man ; RIP Dad

 

Michael Dove
19th October 1941 - 13th September 2021

2020 after the 1st lockdown release The Carpenters Arms

It has taken me a long while to write this tribute to my Dad. I knew this man for the best part of 50 years (obviously I have no memories in my early years) and he deserves a good remembrance so I have taken my time over it.

A year ago today, I said goodbye to Dad. It was the early hours of the morning of 13^th September 2021. He had already passed by the time I had made the 2 and a half hour drive from my home to Lincoln County Hospital after the nurse rang me to say he was dying. I held his still warm hand, and kissed his still warm forehead, and cried before I packed up his personal items and left the hospital.

The last time he was at home in Lincoln was Sunday 25^th July. He was down at his local, The Carpenters Arms for a lunchtime drink and on leaving, he had a fall. An ambulance was called and he was taken to Lincoln County Hospital, which was his “home” for the next 7 weeks. My angst of that time is already documented in my prior blog , see https://jacquidove.blogspot.com/2021/10/dear-dad.html and here, I want to celebrate his life.

 Born 19^th October 1941, in Chesterfield to Harold and Vera Dove (nee Jarvis), he was one of three children. His siblings were sister Maureen and elder brother Jeff.

He went to Swanwick Hall Grammar School in Derbyshire from 1953 – 1957, after which he was an RAF apprentice at RAF Halton until 1960.

The RAF coursed through his veins and after he graduated from Halton in the 87^th intake, his first posting was at RAF Syerston before going on to be NCO aircrew on Valiant, Valetta , Shackleton and Nimrod aircraft with postings to Kinloss, Malta (twice) and St Mawgan.

His flying logbooks show his RAF career and I am glad he kept these as it really does document his flying career and the time of his life when I was way too young to appreciate what he did:

 

Air Signaller and AEOP in 49 Squadron in 1963 - 66,

AEOP in Varsity Squadron in 1966

Air Electronics Operator 201 Squadron 1966 - 68

Air Electronics Operator 203 Squadron from 1968 - Dec 1971,

Air Electronics Operator, then AEOP 236 OCH until Nov 74 

Air Electronics Officer 203 Squadron until they left Malta in January 1978.

 

1989 - At Northwood HQ

When the 203 Squadron left Malta in 1978, he became an instructor and then, operations controller of RAF and Nato maritime Patrol aircraft, living in West Ruislip while working at the NATO facilities in Northwood HQ and High Wycombe. In 1987 Mum & Dad moved to Lincoln and the rest of his RAF career was spent at Cranwell continuing as an instructor, operations controller and finally intelligence briefing officer, before leaving the service in October 1991, on his 51st birthday.

 

Having left the service, he never worked in civvy street and the next 29 years were spent in retirement, rambling, cycling, picture framing, going to the pub, being a grumpy old man and keeping his mind agile with research in quantum physics among other scientific topics!

 

Sept 1965

Dad met Mum, Teresa (Terri) in the early 60’s in Derbyshire where she was a nurse. They married 17^th September 1965 and had the best part of 50 years together before Terri succumbed to pancreatic cancer in December 2011. He visited Mum’s resting place in her hometown of Wicklow as often as he could before his own ill health prevented him from making the journey across the Irish Sea in the last few years. He never really got over losing his "cotton bud"

 

The last 4 years or so of his life were spent with a fairly steady and stable routine….. my visits to Lincoln increased (and especially when Covid hit and I could form a “bubble” with him) to help him manage the ever increasing hospital and local surgery appointments he had to address his failing health. Funny how he always managed to get appointments that were in the morning so he could then get to his local The Carpenters Arms for his pints of beer every day. Whenever I was in Lincoln we had a routine… drop him off at the pub at 11.50 and pick him up at 2 and every other day, we would go to Waitrose for the grocery shopping beforehand.

 

 

One of my favourite photos of Mum & Dad - Wicklow

Just a few of the treasured memories of my dad:

When based in Malta, he would come back from his flying sortie, and plot the course they took on a world map hanging on my bedroom wall. When they flew to Cyprus, he would bring back a big container of sherry for Mum and the biggest and juiciest oranges in a basket for me and my sister. He also flew to Iran and Iraq and brought back a book on Persian artefacts and a bit of petrified wood, which still sits on the mantlepiece today.

 

Weekends in Malta would be spent at Kalafrana Beach Club. Mum would pack up a cool box of drinks and sandwiches, and we would set off early to bag a good spot for the sun-loungers and then us kids would go off and swim until we were wrinkled, only coming back when we were hungry or wanted a drink. Mum and Dad would sunbathe until the call of the bar drew them in to have a few martinis in the lounge where we left them to party, interrupting them only to ask for a few cents to get a bottle of Coke or Dr Pepper.

 

When we were living in Ruislip and Dad worked at the NATO base in High Wycombe, he tended to do night shifts, so we did not really see him too much. I turned rockabilly when I was 16 and Dad was so embarrassed to be seen with me in public with my beehive and chiffon hair scarfs, he would always make me walk behind him!

 

In Ruislip, we got our first family pet. Dad had wanted an Irish Wolfhound, but he settled for a Yellow Labrador called Fella. We got Fella when he was 6 months old, and bundle of nonstop energy. Apparently, he was a drug dog but got booted out because he ate the drugs when he found them! I always teased dad about having a junky dog! Every Saturday Dad would take him for a walk, setting off about 8am, and trekking out towards Princess Risborough and then come home at about 4pm at which time Fella would just collapse and sleep!!!  Every walk, Dad wore a red jumper, and it was not long before if anyone wore anything red, Fella would go ballistic and jump up and down, convinced it was time for his walk!!! Fella was Dad’s constant companion until the dog’s old age got to the point where dad had to let him go. That was a really sad day.

 

Mum & Dad at my 18th - Dec 1986

When I was first learning how to drive, and just a few lessons in at the age of 17, he allowed me to drive his powerful Rover 2000 in the carpark area of the Northwood HQ where he was working…….. He never volunteered for a driving lesson again after I floored the accelerator and almost took the car through the fence!!! I must admit I was a bit shaken too! It was a powerful car.

He always loved driving – his most treasured car was an orange MGB which my sister and I had to squish into the small back seat to go to Sunday Mass. I was so embarrassed. The car came to a sticky end when another driver swatting a bee in her car swerved into his lane and they crashed. Dad was OK, but the poor MGB was a write off.

That last couple of years of his life, his car hardly left the garage as he only went out during the Covid lock down to get his groceries from Waitrose and when I was in Lincoln, I did the shopping run for him and if he wanted to go elsewhere such as his daily pub runs (outside the Covid shutdown), I was his taxi driver.

 

Physically, Dad was a formidable man, 6ft tall and broad.  To me, Dad was strong and would deal with anything. He was well known at his local as being a Mr Meldrew character, happy to complain about anything! He was known as Mr Grumpy and my Christmas and Birthday cards to him had this as a regular theme, which he seemed to relish!  To be honest, he was really quite shy and found it hard to make conversation with people that he did not know. His complaints were really done by letter.

 

In January 2021, he had an appointment for an MRI on his heart in Grantham Hospital. We left with plenty of time before his appointment and used the new Lincoln Bypass. As we had ample time, he asked me to make a detour….. we ended up in a small village called Navenby which Dad told me was the place him and Mum made home after they got married. Dad was navigating and he found their old flat without any difficulty. It did not look occupied, but it was still standing and part of the site was being used as a run-down garage, but he seemed delighted it was still there. When heading home from Lincoln a couple of months ago Google maps was taking me towards Grantham and through Navenby so I thought I would try to find the old flat. I think I did find it, but the site is being redeveloped and a new house is now sitting on the same site.

 

Dad's 79th, with the mug from the Grandchildren

 

One thing I have really learnt since he passed is that anything he kept really meant something to him. His personal possessions are few, so I know that each and every one he kept meant a lot to him. He never kept anything just for the sake of it.

His intake form for the 87th at Halton, the Christmas cards and letters from his nephew Mark, Mum’s wedding ring, his flight records, mementos from Mum such as her nursing medals, her sewing box, Mum’s bible given to her on her wedding day from her own Mum. There were also some canvas paintings from my cousins’ kids in Wicklow that had been sent as Christmas cards one year. They all obviously meant a lot to him otherwise he would not have kept them. In the study I also found all of the Christmas and birthday cards I sent him, along with the daily postcards I sent when on a 2 week holiday in Scotland and also from my holiday in America over Christmas 2018.  One of the things I found in my Dad’s possessions was a letter from the Kalafrana Beach Club Committee at the time we were leaving Malta, thanking him for his part on the committee. That obviously meant a lot to him because it was kept. He also kept his set of silver ingots from the Beaulieu Museum. When clearing out the garage to pass on his tools to cousin Mark, I found the lead and dog collar for our old pet, Fella.

 

2017 Xmas

One surprise find was a carbon copy of a letter he had written to two old ladies in America. I have no idea who these ladies were, but every Christmas, Mum & Dad traded Christmas cards and letters with them. The letter brought tears to my eyes because I had always thought Dad had a real Bah Humbug attitude to Christmas and in this letter he tells how much he enjoys it, with the family around.

All of these special things are being kept.

 

Dad was my Godsend when I bought my first home on my own. He put in extra electrical sockets, put shelving up and was the man about the house. After he did the DIY, he would take himself off to the local pub for a few pints. I did not have many Dad/Daughter drinks as inevitably I was always driving, but the few we did have, we certainly put the world to rights 😊

 

chilling in the back garden 2012

Dad was never very good at showing his emotions. When my sister visited from her home base of Singapore one year when her kids were toddlers, Dad spent ages building a swing and a climbing frame with a slide (albeit a bit steep!) in the back garden for the grandchildren. He also built a sand pit, got loads of paints and paper, and a swingball thing. He never showed it but he was delighted when the grandchildren actually played with everything. Another time we took a family day out to the Magna Science Adventure. Personally, I think Dad enjoyed trying all the scientific toys and experiments more than anyone else!

 

 

One time Brian and I were away in London for the weekend and heading home on the Sunday I could not find the keys. We were in a tube station and the contents of the suitcase were tipped out… no keys. Headed back to the hotel where the staff let us back into our room (no lifts working so it was a trudge up a fair few flights of stairs) but no sign of the keys in the room. Knowing Dad had a spare set, I called the house in Lincoln. Dad had just left to go to the pub for his regular Sunday lunch pint before Mum’s roast dinner but Mum called the pub. He literally had his pint of Guinness to his mouth to take his first sip when the call came through and Dad, being my hero, dropped everything and got in his car and made the 160 mile journey to Hemel. Knowing it would take him a couple of hours to make the journey down the A1, Brian and I decamped into a café in Euston Station. Brian actually saw the lightbulb above my head when I suddenly remembered I had put the keys in a pocket in my purse for safe keeping. Now one thing about my dad is he had a mobile phone but he never had it turned on unless he wanted to use it himself! Tried to ring but of course it was switched off. No choice but let him make the journey and confess once he picked us up. In the end up he was OK about it and quite liked the night away from Mum because the journey home was too much for him to do on the same day.

 

Brian always tells a lovely story about overhearing Dad talking to some of the mourners at Mum’s funeral in Wicklow. Dad was saying that Brian might be a longhaired, Scottish left-wing musician but he knew I was happy, and that was all that mattered. That story was recounted at our wedding this past June.

 

On that happy note, I will sign off and spend the day in quiet reflection. Love you and miss you Daddykins.

2012 - with Angie and the kids

Dad as a boy

2009 Mum & Dad