What a crazy roulette of oppurtunities, missed oppurtinities, good luck and bad luck.
I grew up as probably the poorest kid in my group of friends , half of my mates are dead, some doing well, some not so well. Some healthy, some not...how the fuck am I 55 years old, I think like a 20 year old, the body wears out, sometimes the mind...enjoy every moment while you have it
You cunts
So true mate, life is precious, do what you can whilst you can. We never know what the fuck is going on in our body and mind. Healthy one minute, diagnosed with something or other the next. That's how vulnerable we are to meeting our maker I think. I too am a semi - FOC aged a young 55; )
Can you please rename this the
Life and Death thread as I think It's a good place to post when someone wants to mention deceased loved ones.
Today is the day in 2004 my old fella passed away. Ravaged by dementia and suffering 5-6 strokes.
I was staying in a B&B in Folkestone at the time working away. He died at 6am in a nursing home aged 73. Guess what? I woke up this morning at the same time. I talked out a little telling him I still love him and I miss him just incase he's listening: )
Born in Newton heath in 1930 he was head of the family when war broke out, as my grandfather was in the war. My dad had 4 sisters and two brothers, both brothers, uncle Stanley and uncle James were united fans. My dad Paul saw the light and was a City fan.
I have some wonderful memories with my dad, first taking me fishing to Hollingworth lake aged 6. A copper stopped us very early morning and asked my dad's business as Hindley and Brady we're still fresh in peoples minds. He told the cop we were going fishing and I was asked if he was my dad and were going fishing. I nodded nervously and this appeased the policeman enough to wish us happy fishing. We caught a few roach n' perch on the shallow end and I was hooked on fishing there and then. He took me to City also at a young age, only 6 or 7 when I first walked up the Kippax steps but was overawed by the occasion, and it really bugs me that I cannot think who my first game was against.
When my mum and dad got married they lived in Oldham where my mum was born. My dad liked his sport and would take me fishing, City, ORLFC to Watersheddings, highest and bloody coldest ground in the country, well it felt like it when we had a proper January winter. Stood there, pie in one hand, Bovril in the other, teeth chattering and icy breath! He also became fond of Oldham athletic (when I was older) and we would go and watch latics when fixtures allowed. But City was my first love and I begged him to take me to away games, he duly obliged, I was a lucky lad. Leeds away was my first away aged 12 iirc.
My dad worked many years at Oldham batteries in Denton as a silk screen printer. He also eventually became works shop steward convener, and was the go-between blue collar shop floor and white collar office. Well respected by 2000 men and women back in the day.
One of my favourite fishing spots was on nearby Phillips farm at the end of town lane Denton. We spent many enjoyable days there fishing 3 ponds, figure 8 pond(spit by a thick divide of rat-tail weeds, hence name), roach pit and perch pit. Figure 8 was by far the best pond as it contained a mixed bag including Carp to over 20lb, Crucians to 3.8lb, Roach and perch 2lb plus and beautiful red eyed tench, my best was a whopping 6lb. Brilliant fishing from a tiny 10 peg pond. Figure 8 and perch pit had to make way for the M67 and were filled in, but Roach pit still remains.
And it's where I'm going later to lay a humble bunch of flowers in the corner of the pond under a tree I planted when I scattered his ashes there. I'll say a little prayer: )
This was his favourite song I made sure he got played at the crematorium as we walked out.
RIP dad
