Today my beloved Dad should have turned 80. It probably would have been one hell of an affair, fanfare, fireworks, whiskey, live band...the man loved a good party and didn't act or feel his age. He would have been the one buying rounds at the bar, the last one to bed after dancing with all his friends' wives and telling far too many stories and jokes.
Alas, not to be. Fucking cancer. But life insists on carrying on, whether we can manage or not, so here's a photo for you, Dad. Here's your boy, the apple of your eye, bravely marching over the little bridge to his first day in Kindergarten. You'd have been so proud, he didn't shed a tear and his first comment in his home book is 'What lovely manners, George'.
We love and miss you Dad, happy birthday xxx
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