That'll be ninepence!

(Dad and his mother were evacuated from Le Touquet in 1940)

14th January - Dad's birthday.

I was going to put on a poem I did about my dad today. The poem, however, didn't sum him up as I wanted to. In fact, I just couldn't find the words. But I wanted to say something about him today.

I woke up, knowing many years ago we would have been celebrating his birthday... Going through our customary 'hunt the pressie' (where we'd all shout 'warmer, warmer, warmer...' when he got close, 'Cold, no, freezing!' when he was far away, and 'Hot! Boiling hot!' when he was right on top of it :-D ).

*****

He would have been 76, had he lived. What a strange thought. I only ever knew him young, and most of the memories I have of him will be from childhood... He died just over 20 years ago.

Actually, although he died young, he died happy! For quite some time, he and my mum had planned to get into their camping van, and tour Europe. This wasn't a new idea... even though we had no money for bills or clothes, every summer when the fruit-picking season finished, there was cash in the bank... and into the camper (a huge, converted, bright orange laundry van called "Two ton Tessie") we jumped, and off we went - stopping as the whim took us, driving with the back doors open to let in the air, and often being mistaken as part of a french circus. Many a time, people came out and wave as we passed!

This next trip was different though - we four kids had grown up and had our own agendas. It was to be a holiday for just the two of them.

So, mum and dad had planned their trip, and awaited the arrival of dad's passport. They waited and waited. Then, finally, on the 2nd April 1986 his passport arrived, and with little time to spare before their planned departure. He was so excited. Now there was nothing stopping them... they were finally free of financial burdens (ever since dad had started an ornamental conifer nursery) and they wouldn't be tied to an itinery which revolved around youngsters. They were to have a kind of second honeymoon!

Unfortunately, dad died a very short time later that day. I suspect it was the excitement. But, how I see it now is that he died having just had good news. It is a better way to go than many others.

*****

But, that isn't what I was going to write about. I was going to say something about how he lived. This is what I remember him more for, and this is what's been crossing my mind today:

Dad had a saying "That'll be ninepence!" Did it mean anything? Not a lot, I guess. It was just his jokey way. If one of us handed him a broken toy, he would persevere in fixing it- whatever it took...and, no matter how long it took, when he proudly handed it back and we thanked him, he'd say, "That'll be ninepence!"

If we needed help with an essay or project, he had every National Geographic magazine since the early 1940s, and could tell you in which exact magazines there were articles to back up your work. He would clamber over the sofa to the top shelf, grab this one then that one, and hand them all down to you until you were stacked up in front. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he'd say, "That'll be ninepence!"

If a shoelace snapped, or the schoolbag broke open just before school, or your favourite ornament smashed, or a music tape snapped... somehow or other he'd always manage to fix it... And it always cost ninepence.

(Married in a small church my mum's home island of Samso ['o' with line through], Denmark)

Whatever he did for any of us, he did with love and pride and the desire to give us everything he didn't feel he'd had as a child (emotionally as opposed to financially). And each time he could fulfil that desire, he charged us for it... The price never went up or down. Inflation had no say in it. From when we were titchy, to way past the years we considered ourselves full adults, the price was always the same. How he came to that amount I have no idea. It's not as if there was a ninepence coin. There was a sixpence (sixpenny piece, it was called) - that would have been more logical - but not nine....

The thing about it was that he didn't expect us to ever give him ninepence - he'd have been horrified! It was his way of closing the contract so we no longer owed him, I think. I don't know. Maybe it was his way of putting it on a 'the deal is done' sort of level...

So, these were the predominant thoughts that ran through my head all day.... his soft-spoken voice, and eyes crinkling as he smilingly toted up the cost... "That'll be ninepence"

I could write so, so much more about my dad and his eccentricities, but today I just want to remember that loveable, giving, caring, wonderful man, who would do absolutely anything in the world for us, no matter how huge, nor how long it took, and would want no more thanks than this imaginary charge.

(Dad, Mum, Jim and Michael)