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Sunday 1 September 2013

A holiday with daddy

Today marks the 4th anniversary of my dad passing away and in keeping with tradition, I am writing a blog post about him. This year I've chosen holiday memories...

When I was growing up we never went on holidays. The only time we took a whole family break was in 1995 when we went all went to Bangladesh - I'm pretty sure that's how long it took my parents to save up; it really was 'once in a lifetime.'

But then six years ago I took my dad on holiday. A rather unusual thing to do considering most people in their 20s probably wouldn't go on vacation with a parent, but thinking about it now, it was one of the most important five days of my life.
We went to Switzerland. It may not be the most culturally diverse of places but nature wise it is outstanding and everything my dad appreciated in life - fresh air, trees, plants and scenery. He wasn't very well-travelled himself but he absorbed nature programmes on TV and covered the walls of our house with pictures of deserts, waterfalls and meadows; all the places he had wanted to see.
Just sitting and looking at a lake was enough of a holiday activity for him. He was a great believer in the simple things in life, was very quiet, generally calm (unless he was having one of his old man moans!) and very philosophical.
I wish he could have seen more of the world. But I also know how much he enjoyed our trip, it was a case of quality over quantity, something we are all familiar with but sometimes forget about. 
It doesn't matter how much, how often or where or when, just that 'it', whatever 'it' may be, is done well.

Miss you Ubba.



  1. At first I thought it was a piece about your P.A (personal assistant)! So started reading as I have just been given one at work (just for a few hours a week)... 

    The most expensive 'holiday' our parents ever made was from the familiar and hot paddy fields to foggy London.  Thousands of miles away into the unknown.  Independent travellers!  I couldn't ever uproot like that.  Partly for a better life for us and I'm certain also to satisfy their own secret wanderlust desires.  Going on 'holiday' is such a (I hate to say it) western thing.  It was enough and a luxury just to be able to stay at home on the weekends with the kids and watch an Indian film on the TV with a plate of chichuri!  I only got as far as Bristol with my folks and that was just for the night. Those rare and special moments away than some tick the box brochure picked place.  1992 was our big family trip to the green flatlands! 

    Thanks for sharing your memories. I read your piece about your dad a few times before leaving a comment because I found it so heartfelt. 
    Obie x