Where is my Dad?

31 May 1949 - 27 March 2023
 

As I survey this new land of shifting sand I ask: where is my guiding monolith? My El Capitan; my Eiger; my Everest and Elbrus; my reassuring rock of ages; my steadfast and stubborn stone. Where is my Dad? Where is our Papa, our Nick?

Time takes all things, but the moments we share will always have been. We carry these memories with us and there my Dad lives on. So I won't say goodbye but I will say, thank you, Dad.

Thank you, for your fire and fight within; your loyalty and laughter; your steely stubborn strength; and your reassuring council.

I will miss your conversation with all and any, at the Cossies Cafe on Crown. I will even miss your jokes and your formal jeans and sandles.

So for all thankyous said and unsaid, and for all you'd generously do, Dad, Doctor, Nick and Papa, we remember you.


The silence

In the silence I ask myself, where have the old men gone? Dad, Nev, Bruce and Tom, where have all the old men gone?

Are they at a game somewhere? I know Dad is there for I can hear him, telling tales and singing songs. Those old men all cheer together, as the Wallabies reschool New Zealand. My Dad is even called upon to convert the final try. With strong young legs and red locks of hair, my Dad wins that match again and again in replays with his old TV remote.

Yes, that is where my father's gone, and there he waits with beer and chair for us all. So you see, my father is not buried here for he lives on in everyone.