The Day After Thanksgiving
The day after Thanksgiving this year, which is today, I went to Manchester and worked on an exam for medical students. It was a long day and I got up at half-past five to do it, but the assessors were pleasant and the students were good and the hospital was new and shiny and it all went well and I enjoyed it.
That's an everyday sort of enjoyment to me. It's rewarding work, and although it required a lot of concentration I was very pleased to do it. I'm very, very lucky to be offered such work - I know it's useful for the training of future doctors, and I enjoy the challenge of getting it right. Today there were thirty-six candidates and I always try to give each one the same opportunity.
My colleague and friend Sally gave me a lift, too so I didn't have to drive, which was great. It's fifty-something miles each way but miles with a LOT of traffic.
The day after Thanksgiving last year was rather different.
Stephen and I were at the Kennedy Space Centre, in Florida, with Silverback, and I was having one of my best days ever.
I'd wanted to go there - - well, forever - - but never thought I would.
We had two days there and it was as wonderful as I had hoped.
On the first day there, I rang the Communist to tell him we were there. He'd always been fascinated by space travel in general and the Moon missions in particular.
I described it all to him and he was thrilled to bits. I had been ringing him every day from America, because, although he was well when we left, he was eighty-five, and you never know, do you?
"Your voice sounds a bit croaky, Dad," I said.
"Bit of a cold, I think," he said. "Tell me about the Saturn V".
That was the last proper conversation that I had with him. He had a virus that turned into pneumonia and he died just over a week later.
Here's the Rocket Garden in the sunset.
That's an everyday sort of enjoyment to me. It's rewarding work, and although it required a lot of concentration I was very pleased to do it. I'm very, very lucky to be offered such work - I know it's useful for the training of future doctors, and I enjoy the challenge of getting it right. Today there were thirty-six candidates and I always try to give each one the same opportunity.
My colleague and friend Sally gave me a lift, too so I didn't have to drive, which was great. It's fifty-something miles each way but miles with a LOT of traffic.
The day after Thanksgiving last year was rather different.
Stephen and I were at the Kennedy Space Centre, in Florida, with Silverback, and I was having one of my best days ever.
I'd wanted to go there - - well, forever - - but never thought I would.
We had two days there and it was as wonderful as I had hoped.
On the first day there, I rang the Communist to tell him we were there. He'd always been fascinated by space travel in general and the Moon missions in particular.
I described it all to him and he was thrilled to bits. I had been ringing him every day from America, because, although he was well when we left, he was eighty-five, and you never know, do you?
"Your voice sounds a bit croaky, Dad," I said.
"Bit of a cold, I think," he said. "Tell me about the Saturn V".
That was the last proper conversation that I had with him. He had a virus that turned into pneumonia and he died just over a week later.
Here's the Rocket Garden in the sunset.
posted by Daphne at 7:17 pm
2 Comments:
Very poignant post.
In some ways it's hard to believe it's a year ago but I'm glad you have that postive memory of your last proper conversation with your dad.
Glad you have those happy memories and when mine are fading of those days, I'll have lots of photos to look at.
It WAS a fun visit.
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