Today would have been dad’s birthday.
I wanted to mark the day somehow, but couldn’t think of a good way until I went for a walk.
Dad left school at an early age, the equivalent of today’s year 7 if memory serves me correctly, and had to make his own way in the world. He never had an education but with an enquiring mind he read anything he could lay his hands on; newspapers, magazines, fiction and non-fiction and developed a broad spread of general knowledge that made him almost invincible at Trivial Pursuit.
So today I bought a book. It’s Russel Shorto’s ‘The Island at the Centre Of the World‘, a short history of the founding of New York. It’s a book he both he and I would love and, in memory of dad, once I’ve finished it I’ll release it and hope that someone else out there who deserves it and wants to increase their knowledge will find it and in turn pass it on.
(I’ve just opened the book to start reading. It’s dedication – ‘For my father’.)