W
wilbur
Now, it's not like I 'm missing my Dad. He was a good bloke and altho I wasn't around when he died and didn't get to say goodbye, there was no 'business' between us that needed to be 'finished'. (Well, there was a little bit, but I sorted that out pretty quickly.) It's just that I 'm looking into family ancestry and it would be good to have a chat with Dad to learn what he knew about about my relatives from last generation.
I figure this may not be the case with all of you. For example some of you might miss your Dad a lot. Perhaps you find yourself in a bit of a hole at present and would like to have a trusted someone to talk things over with. Or some of you might have lots of unfinished business with your Old Man ...
In any case, whether your Dad suddenly died like mine did … or whether he left the family and you've lost contact … if you'd like to voice your appreciation of him … or even tell him you hate his guts ... well … here's an anonymous opportunity to tell him what you think and feel …
For myself I 'd like to chat with Dad about his childhood. To understand those days better. To find out what life was like then, and how the people he lived life with coped in those times.
And perhaps to find out how many of my behaviours are learned from family behaviours ... or whether they're entirely my own. Am I like this relative or that relative? Or like none of them? So that maybe` I could gain a fuller perspective of my Life. (If you think Life is like a story. If you're old enough to feel comfortable looking back. I know lots of you members are.)
So I 'm a bit of an 'in-depth' person. But that's how I AM. Quite different in lots of ways from my Dad. He kept his feet on the ground at all times. Leave the thinking to the experts, he would say. (Never realising that an expert is sometimes only a drip under pressure.)
Dad became a soldier when he was sixteen. To 'better' himself. That was in 1936. No one knew World War Two was three years away and that soon Dad would find himself as a 19 year old component of a retreating Army with an empty stomach forced-marching down foreign roadways littered with the bodies of slaughtered civilians. (Doesn't Life play itself out hilariously sometimes?!)
Here's a pic of him when the British Army was fighting Rommel in Libya. 1943, I think. (Handsome young bloke. Looks fit, eh?)
Cheers All!
I figure this may not be the case with all of you. For example some of you might miss your Dad a lot. Perhaps you find yourself in a bit of a hole at present and would like to have a trusted someone to talk things over with. Or some of you might have lots of unfinished business with your Old Man ...
In any case, whether your Dad suddenly died like mine did … or whether he left the family and you've lost contact … if you'd like to voice your appreciation of him … or even tell him you hate his guts ... well … here's an anonymous opportunity to tell him what you think and feel …
For myself I 'd like to chat with Dad about his childhood. To understand those days better. To find out what life was like then, and how the people he lived life with coped in those times.
And perhaps to find out how many of my behaviours are learned from family behaviours ... or whether they're entirely my own. Am I like this relative or that relative? Or like none of them? So that maybe` I could gain a fuller perspective of my Life. (If you think Life is like a story. If you're old enough to feel comfortable looking back. I know lots of you members are.)
So I 'm a bit of an 'in-depth' person. But that's how I AM. Quite different in lots of ways from my Dad. He kept his feet on the ground at all times. Leave the thinking to the experts, he would say. (Never realising that an expert is sometimes only a drip under pressure.)
Dad became a soldier when he was sixteen. To 'better' himself. That was in 1936. No one knew World War Two was three years away and that soon Dad would find himself as a 19 year old component of a retreating Army with an empty stomach forced-marching down foreign roadways littered with the bodies of slaughtered civilians. (Doesn't Life play itself out hilariously sometimes?!)
Here's a pic of him when the British Army was fighting Rommel in Libya. 1943, I think. (Handsome young bloke. Looks fit, eh?)
Cheers All!
We live far apart these days.
