1 of 42

Write now Article Tools

The Day Dad Died

I still remember this as if it was yesterday, although it also seems as if it happened in another lifetime to another person.

It was February 6th 1962, I was 13 and my brother was 10. My Mum and Dad were happily married and so very much in love, we had loving grandparents in fact all I remember of my younger days was that there was always plenty of love around. We were a tactile family so kissing and hugging was part of everyday life.

My Mum and Dad were really great people they were both Leos so there were plenty of arguments but they always made up so my brother and I got used to it and were not threatened by it. They would never go to bed on an argument and I always remember that, after they made up, they were like a couple of lovebirds.

It was a Tuesday and the weather was really cold. I was at the Grammar School and my brother was still at Junior School. Dad often gave us a lift to school if we were ready by the time he wanted to go to work.

That particular day, we were in a rush Dad gave us a lift to school but he was running late and just dropped us off with a quick "goodbye have a nice day".

I always walked home from school with my friends it was around 2 miles so we took our time and generally had a laugh and a joke on the way home. I left my friend at her house and I carried on alone it was still light I remember then as I got close to home a familiar face was waiting for me by the shops about 5 minutes walk from my house. It was my Uncle Stuart. I was surprised but not concerned as Uncle Stuart and Auntie Greta often came down from Yorkshire to spend the evening with my mum and dad.

"I've got some bad news for you" he said. "Oh yes" I answered, not having a clue what he was going to say. "Your Dad won't be coming home ever again" he continued. I wasn't quite sure what he meant so looked at him quizzically. "He's had an accident in the car" he elaborated. I assumed he meant that he was in hospital so still didn't feel the enormity of what he was trying to tell me. "Is he going to be all right?" I asked. "No Susan, he won't be coming home ever again" he answered. Suddenly, I realized what he meant. "He's dead!" I exclaimed as a feeling of panic struck me. "That's right" he answered. "I wanted to tell you before you got home" he told me.

I don't really remember anything much after that my mum was beside herself and totally inconsolable. "How could this happen to us, Dad was so young and he was fine when he dropped us off at school this

• 1
• 2
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Memoirs: Death?
We want to hear your view. Write now!