My Old Man ; RIP Dad
Michael Dove
19th October 1941 - 13th September 2021
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| 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
13th 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 25th 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.
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 87th
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.
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| 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!
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| Sept 1965 |
Dad met Mum, Teresa (Terri) in the early 60’s in Derbyshire where she was a nurse. They married 17th 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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 😊
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| 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.
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| 2012 - with Angie and the kids |
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| Dad as a boy |
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| 2009 Mum & Dad |
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