Refusal to Mourn

My Father L.K. Way (right)  and my Grandfather J.E.D Hall both Political Journalists-
Conservative Conference, sometime in the 1950's at Brighton

My father lived for 95 years. (28th September 1916- 8th November 2011)
His life spanned nearly a century- it's hard to imagine what changes he has seen. He was at Dunkirk and was rescued by a ship from the beaches. He never spoke of the war but regretted missing so much of his two elder sons' early lives and his wife's last years (she died  of cancer not long after he returned from duty). All his life he was involved with words and politics. He had been awarded a C.B.E , had poems published and was a political journalist respected by all political parties.
He always spoke of the joy and delight he felt when he met my beautiful mother, who was then an ice dancer with ' Holiday on Ice' and how lucky he felt to be given another chance at happiness when he had a second family- myself and my brother- together with her.
I will not now speak of all the things I could tell you of him: his goodness, integrity and intelligence and I will only say that to me he was the perfect English gentleman.
I refuse to mourn his passing.
For the last few years all the things that he enjoyed and all the things that made him himself have been slowly stripped from him. He coped with courage, wry humour and dignity but I could feel only fury.
That has passed now and I feel sadness but no more rage.
I am lucky to have my faith and believe that when it is my time to make that final leap over to the other side, his hands will be there to catch me.

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