My Birthday Twin died during the last couple of weeks. Over a period of years we became quite close to his family at various times and when I became aware of greater details of his life from his son's writings, it made a great impression on me and Iwanted to share it with other similar-thinking folk ....
> My Dad died on Friday evening, aged 91. I just say here a little about
> him. I loved him. He was warm, sincere and optimistic. There was joy in his
> greeting and generosity in his manner. People said with feeling that, in
> his zestful presence, their world seemed better. Women, in particular, loved him.
He was courteous, dapper and unassuming.
> He appreciated beauty and could find it in an ageing face. His eyes
> twinkled with a benign naughtiness that could source a laugh from everyday
> things. And he always remembered important occasions and made an effort
> to celebrate them. When aged 78, he married my stepmother on Waikiki Beach, Hawaii,
> just before sunset. He promised her ten years. They had thirteen years
> and were very good for (and to) one another. I am grateful for our
> blended family. He was a dreamer. I'm sure he dreamed of being skilled at sport, dancing,
> food preparation - and he did courses in these things - but he lacked
> quite the deftness to excel at sport or the practical use of his hands (or
> feet). His skills lay with ideas, his use of words and his desire and
> striving to include others in his world. He was ever interested in current affairs and the activities of those he loved.
> He appreciated beauty and could find it in an ageing face. His eyes
> twinkled with a benign naughtiness that could source a laugh from everyday
> things. And he always remembered important occasions and made an effort
> to celebrate them. When aged 78, he married my stepmother on Waikiki Beach, Hawaii,
> just before sunset. He promised her ten years. They had thirteen years
> and were very good for (and to) one another. I am grateful for our
> blended family. He was a dreamer. I'm sure he dreamed of being skilled at sport, dancing,
> food preparation - and he did courses in these things - but he lacked
> quite the deftness to excel at sport or the practical use of his hands (or
> feet). His skills lay with ideas, his use of words and his desire and
> striving to include others in his world. He was ever interested in current affairs and the activities of those he loved.
He wrote good letters and could speak well. His strong sense of duty led to his working hard and ever striving to do
> the right thing. He was decisive and kept things orderly (Oh where did
> THAT gene go!?). Just occasionally, too much focus on detail affected his
> overall performance. He had a low tolerance of frustration but, after one or two thunderclaps,
> the storm would quickly pass. He was deeply Australian. Through humour, a sense of fairness, and desire
> to work for communal good he would echo Henry Lawson's words: "... and I
> love the great land where the waratah grows, and the wattle-bough blooms
> on the hill". He entered hospital on 1 August, breathless and weak with heart and
> kidneys failing. Through his fitful speech, he talked of ordinary
> things - and the future. He remained forward-looking and eager for a
> laugh and to know what was happening in the lives of those close to him.
> Determined to be independent, he would struggle to the toilet and shower
> himself despite desperate gasps. I left him about 7 pm on Friday when he wanted to watch the television
> news. He said he'd like to doze before viewing the
> Olympic opening ceremony. He never awoke. Dad always said he had a lucky life. Perhaps then it was fitting that he
> died on 8/8/2008
>
>
> the right thing. He was decisive and kept things orderly (Oh where did
> THAT gene go!?). Just occasionally, too much focus on detail affected his
> overall performance. He had a low tolerance of frustration but, after one or two thunderclaps,
> the storm would quickly pass. He was deeply Australian. Through humour, a sense of fairness, and desire
> to work for communal good he would echo Henry Lawson's words: "... and I
> love the great land where the waratah grows, and the wattle-bough blooms
> on the hill". He entered hospital on 1 August, breathless and weak with heart and
> kidneys failing. Through his fitful speech, he talked of ordinary
> things - and the future. He remained forward-looking and eager for a
> laugh and to know what was happening in the lives of those close to him.
> Determined to be independent, he would struggle to the toilet and shower
> himself despite desperate gasps. I left him about 7 pm on Friday when he wanted to watch the television
> news. He said he'd like to doze before viewing the
> Olympic opening ceremony. He never awoke. Dad always said he had a lucky life. Perhaps then it was fitting that he
> died on 8/8/2008
>
>
Harry Greenberg
Phone: (03) 9525 0496
Emall: boba.zayda@optusnet.com.au
Blog site: zaydasrandomreflections.blogspot.com
Phone: (03) 9525 0496
Emall: boba.zayda@optusnet.com.au
Blog site: zaydasrandomreflections.blogspot.com
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