The sound of the skipping rope whirring as it hit the ground meant their father was up. He used to skip every day before he went to work.
He taught his children resilience, to never give up when learning something new no matter how difficult it was. “You just gotta make friends with it”, he used to say.
He loved his children and would try and spoil them when he could.
He fancied himself as a mechanic and would often diagnose the car trouble as needing new spark plugs. When asked if he had fixed the car he nodded and said it didn’t need the key to start it, you just had to stand at the front step and clap your hands and it would come.
He was of that generation where you didn’t tell your kids you loved them but you showed them. When his children told him they loved him it was met by an embarrassed silence.
The removal of his gall bladder heralded the start of his decline. He became increasingly ill and grumpy and as the days moved on he became less communicative. He was always very direct in his communication. When his children spoke to him on the phone he never said hello or goodbye. He said their name and at the end just hung up.Continue reading