Letter Going Beyond The Grave

Dear dad...it's coming up to that time of year when

thinking of dear departed loved ones is important,

well for me it is anyway.

 

The years have flown since you took your last

breath in May 2004, but for me it seems like only

yesterday, although a lot has changed.We've now

moved into a technological era, both fascinating

in some ways, yet scary in others...I won't go into

details, because it's of no importance to you.

 

The reason I'm really writing, is to stir your memory

back to 1972. Do you remember when my provisional

drivers licence came through and I could finally take

lessons? That was when I asked for your help.Without

any hesitation you offered to show me the ropes, going

through the codes and symbols until I had them off by

heart.

 

It was a long arduous journey for a year...yes a whole

year, with many moments of worry for you and mum –

like the first time I took to the wheel with you in the

passengers seat dad. We were in the car park of a hotel,

when I accidently went into reverse and drove through

a neatly prepared bed of flowers – of course dad you

were mortified, and I had to go and appologize to the

owner, insisting I pay for any damages. He was very

understanding and appeared not too concerned, but

was glad I owned up to doing it. Phew! Just how

lucky was that? Well I'd only just turned seventeen

at the time.

 

My driving instructor was very patient with me, but

after months of still no test in sight, dad you were

beginning to worry that he was just taking my money.

After six months I remember you saying; “come on

Jenny, surely you should be ready by now.” But for

me my confidence would only come once the driving

instructor said I was ready.

 

So on and on I continued every Saturday morning for

a whole year, until finally on April 2^nd 1973 I took my

driving test and passed. Couldn't believe it! First time,

it was a dream come true.

 

Thank you dad for letting me use your car for a year,

and coming out with me. Now the roads were my

freedom to go where I wanted...well once I got my own

car, which I did eventually. Do you recall my beautiful

white Hillman Imp? I even remember the registration:

LRK 608D.

 

I used to love going to Weston-Super-Mare with Trixi

my dog. Parking down on the beach, she loved racing

along the sand, the fresh air blowing us both along.

There was an expectancy back then, of many places

I could go...which I took every opportunity of traveling

too.

 

Yes! I had scary moments, but thankfully learned not

to make them again. Just want to thank you again for

letting me use your car...couldn't have done it without

you Dad.

 

Your ever loving daughter Jenny.

 

Photo's my own.