When I was three, I remember waking up and going into your bedroom, only to find mom was missing. You dressed me, and we drove to the hospital. I'm sure you'd told me many times that I was about to get a brother, but I hadn't remembered, so his arrival that day was a big surprise. 41 Mason's Place was never quite the same again.
Andy and I always looked forward to you coming home from faraway lands. And, of course, to the things you brought back. My red ghetto blaster was a definite hit, and the look on Mom's face when you opened the box of dead desert animal shells was priceless.
What about 'Project MG'? I always wondered why the mechanic working on the world's largest machinery took such a long time to fix so small a car.
There's no doubt you lived a life of escape and adventure, and I'm sure the crazy and wild stories you did tell me were just the tip of the iceberg.
I don't know why we remember the things we do, but I cherish these memories, and many more, fondly.
Rest in peace, Dad.
Rich
23/09/2023
