For my Dad is?

Death, a friend or foe?

To be feared or embraced?

A satisfied finale or a sordid defeat?

My siblings and I watch our 98 year old father suffer as his body refuses to relinquish life. It has no reason to,  though weary and worn out.

Death changes it’s face as we grow older. We spend our lives avoiding death if at all possible. For my Dad death is a safe haven which he longs to sail into and put his anchor down, after a long and satisfying journey.

Mentally as agile as ever.  His body is worn out.  How frustrated he is.  Death for him has no “sting”. He has climbed to the mountain top and  looked over the promised land.  The future he sees ahead, he is satisfied  to  leave for his children, his grandchildren and great-grandchildren to conquer. He no longer has the strength.

A place of many possibilities because of my Dad and his generation.

 

Frederick Clifford born so long ago, 1917,

this my Dad to be.

Father William, Mother Bertha, 2 brothers 3 sisters and Cliff,

the family.

Ille, Rene, Vic,  Mary, and Laurie, all gone. Dad old and frail,

it seems so sad.

But, really much to celebrate, each one of us,

should really be so glad.

The harmony and riches in NZ. This is ours to enjoy,

because in a way.

My Dad and his generation had values, beliefs, and ethics,

so often missed today.

Their Grandfather had sailed out from England an

“Albertlander”was he.

A lowly peasant in England, really considered

a nobody, you see.

Through amazing hardship and toil, with determination,

he finally won.

His prize secure, he made sure there was a farm for each

and every lucky son.

Dad’s father , my grandfather, told me how at 19 he

proudly had his farm.

1000 acres, all bush, shed for a home. Just expected he said ,

No cause for alarm.

And so it was true, 20 years later, when my Dad was born into

a beautiful home.

Well established dairy farm, Chairman District Council,

WR Grant was well known.

Seems to me looking from afar, that these men were

made for their time.

A faith in God, loyalty to family and community, they built a nation

I call mine.

I grew up in a family knowing love, fun, and a real,

and absolute security.

No TV, or explicit movie, a safe protected childhood full of

love and purity.

Our Dad organising games nights for school, relies, and friends.

He had a reputation.

My Dad was always out there to support. I admit sometimes to

his son’s frustration.

A&P Shows, building a local church, referee then

president District hockey.

Rotary, bowls, photography, participant to president,

the way it went usually.

Pig Marketing Council, School commitee…..

Cliff was always there.

So many things long forgotten now. Yet a legacy

still with us here .

And yet my Dad was first and foremost family,

how lucky for us kids.

We all knew if any one of us had a need ,

all else was put on the skids.

A welcoming home where we so often entertained ,

cousins and friends.

Cards, table tennis, bowls, games, whatever were

the latest trends.

Dad, not an orator, a profound thinker, a philosopher,

a practical man

And yet he suprised his son again, this hardworking farmer,

this fisherman.

Persuaded by Mum to finally take up bowls, a winner again,

with prizes galore.

At 60 photography became his big thing, winning prizes

to gloat over once more.

But one more challenge was waiting for Dad, Mum died

he had lost his dear wife.

He shocked us kids, found Margaret, marriage a great success,

just got on with life.

A life so full of variety and challenge, 90 years of living

through so much change.

No car, airplane, telephone, so much now common

would have seemed strange.

Depressions and world wars,  History was happening

as he lived his life.

Dad faced the challenges of his day supporting

four kids and his wife.

Amazing the influence our Dad did have, the  attributes that

Dad passed on.

To children, grandchildren, his traits are with us though

he is all but gone.

Eileen, my sis dependable, stable, reliable. Hugh perfectionist

out to win.

Bob, socialiser, a popular good guy, Murray bald with his

Dad’s big grin.

How blessed my family, country, nation are because of

men like you Dad.

A simple faith in God and belief system,

unquestioning stoically had.

So much we owe to this previous generation. I for one will

try my very best.

To honour my Dad by holding these values, as he takes his

well deserved rest.

They met and overcame the great challenges

of their day.

May God help us to overcome our problems,

that very same way.

Thanks Dad for all you have given, the list too long

to tally up here.

Well done, from a proud son, God bless as you struggle through

your 98th year!

Your son

Asaw Miller