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Living Obituary
Why do we never tell our loved ones how much they mean to us whilst they're still alive to hear it? Deborah Prosser's father is in the pink of good health, and she wants him to know now how she feels ...
"My father never raised his voice to me, never smacked or threatened, never admonished or criticised. Instead, he laughed and teased. He taught me how to knit and how to draw a swing. He let me drive our old Consul car when I could hardly see over the huge steering wheel.
He hated buying anything that he could make himself. I noticed recently that he was wearing a belt which he had fashioned from the leather of an old satchel bought for my entry into High School in 1971.
His favourite past-time (much to my mother's chagrin) was to collect prized
pieces of timber from skips, or to stop the car in order to retrieve a bit of broken aerial from the side of the road. He wore second-hand clothes. If the sleeves of shirts were too long he simply cut them off.
Hemming, was of course, out of the question, and he was often to be seen gardening in a shirt which sported ragged, fraying sleeves, jauntily cut short just above the elbow. He was an avid reader, but not of anything so fancy as novels: his weekly library selection (buying books was simply a waste of money) included such titles as "Damp-proof Coursing For the Beginner", "If I Had A Hammer - A DIY Guide".
He was a glorious eccentric who loved us unconditionally, who was patient
and quiet and funny - and whose collection of string and rubber bands might one day find their way to the Smithsonian.....or the nearest skip."
How do let your family or friends know what you think of them?
What is their reaction to your view of them?
How do they see you?
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