An Old Man

In 1988 my brother Richard (left) and his family flew from Australia to visit us in Maldon, one of the reasons being so that three of the grandchildren could be christened in our local church, All Saints. By that time my father was very frail so it was obvious that this would be the last time Richard would see him - and I think it was understood that, when Dad died, he would not fly thousands of mile to attend the funeral.

Because my  parents had moved from Hastings to Maldon so that we could be closer and be able to support each other, I saw a fair bit of my father as he deteriorated, less so physically than mentally. There were symptoms of this creeping old age. For example, when I was able to join him at the local pub for a beer or two, he would tell me the same stories, sometimes twice in the same session. At any other time this might have irritated me but it didn't; if he enjoyed telling and retelling those stories that was fine by me. However, when the day came that he felt unable to walk the few hundred yards for his daily beer we knew that the end was close.

In those last days, while he was nursed at home by my mother, he must have looked back on his life in which he had seen the world, and I do wonder what his thoughts were. For example, I wonder which part of his life, in retrospect, he most enjoyed, the part to which, were it possible, he would have most wanted to return. I would like to think that it was the years in Mombasa in the late fifties and early sixties when he was managing director of the import-export and ships's agency firm for which he had worked for many decades, when he was well known and well respected in the town, and when he was still able to be involved in the part of the business which he most enjoyed: dealing with ships.

Perhaps, though, it was the years just before he set out for Africa. I suggest this because he made it very clear that, when he retired, he would be returning to a life in England, to a good pub, some firm friends, and a chance to watch some county cricket - preferably Essex, for that was the team he had followed when he was a boy in Leytonstone.

I do hope that, in his last, declining months, he found comfort his memories, that he was able to look back with some satisfaction at a life well lived.