Fathers Day Tribute – Scarred for Life by a Wonderful Dad
There is a storey we all favored to hear as children, and that was the one about how my brave Dad got his face filled with scars. I will tell to you the storey at the end of this tribute, a tribute to the best dad a young woman could ever have. His dying at the early age of 54 occurred as a shock especially when his designation for the infirmary was to have a plaster cast removed only to have him dropped dead in the waiting room.
Eventhough the parting of the ways was abrupt the fondest of memories has still held a solid presence in my thoughts over the 26 years where I was proud to call him my dad. If I could work back time, I would apologize for the times I took him for granted. Unfortunately, it’s too late and I would have to carry this burden throughout my life. But knowing the man he was, I’m sure he will forgive me.
The view that solaced me and helped alleviate the rancor I felt was the one that goes “the good die young”.People view the word “special” in many ways. So what do I see in my father that makes him to a greater extent special than the others?
Dad functioned in the military for thirty-four years along side an army of Fathers Day Gifts. He was designated in Hong Kong when this storey happened. The warning signal prompted into motion the evacuation of folks living outside the camp to look for asylum in the camp right away.
Eight of us were crowded in the rear of an army wagon with only pillows used for protection. We readily followed the order to hold our heads down – the Chinese mob come out from the entrenches that lined the road, armed with all varieties of arms – 21 stones got in the wagon as we maneuvered toward the camp.
The convoy of trucks that followed behind and stopped – now stood burning wrecks.If a barrage of boulders were hurled into the back of the wagon – just what kind of state was the front of that vehicle in and that of the driver. There were no medals of courage presented to the driver when recognition was presented by the army superiors for his act of valor. The reason why was because he should not have been driving at the time, so all the pats on the back went to the wrong man sitting up front.
I often question today this day would we all have got out alive if the boot was on the other foot, if those drivers did not violate the rules.
The outcome of that horrifying day was a truck with no windscreen a driver with no face and eight living bodies that lived to recite the tale – so now you have the conclusion to my story why those millions of incisions and scars, scarred us for life with remarkable memories of dear old dad.
