Lest we forget

November 11th was my dad's birthday. Had he lived he would have been 100 years old today. We have had lots of laughs remembering him, sharing stories and celebrating - not his birthday, but his life. Sally never knew my dad, but I'm sure she thinks she does and could tell all my stories as well as I can! For as long as I can remember, each year coming up to his birthday, he would say 'November 11th - lest we forget' As if we would forget - or be allowed to! As he grew older and was showing the first signs of dementia he had 'the interview' with a doctor. He asked the usual questions - name, year, name of the Prime Minister - and 'what is your date of birth Mr Hull?' It has to be confessed that he didn't do too well in this particular 'test', but to this last question he answered 'the 11th day of the 11th month - lest we forget'. It was to be the first time I had to smile at the first of many wacky, funny things my dad would say over the rest of his life.

Today has been a good day, doing little silly things that no one else would understand, that remind me of my dad. Of course I've shed a wee tear, but the laughter and fun have way outweighed the tears. I choose how I remember my childhood, which includes my dad. I choose to remember the happy times, the fun and the best moments. I could choose to remember differently, but then I'd have lost out. The memories would be purely bitter and I would be robbed of the little, silly things which never fail to bring a smile to my face - especially on a day like today. 

It's an amazing thing when you stop to think about it, but we have the power to choose in lots of circumstances of life. Through the Bible we're urged to 'choose life' and that is the major choice any of us will make. But as a result of making that choice we are then free to choose - forgiveness or bitterness - love or hate - imprisoned or free. Today I remember with love a dad who loved me and did the best he knew how to be a good dad. And today once more he brought a smile to my face.

Tonight's celebration of my dad involves chocolate - come on, you might have guessed! He wasn't a big lover of chocolate or sweets - how could he be my dad, I wonder?! But he loved Bounty bars and I bought them for him regularly - including a Bounty egg at Easter. So tonight - chocolate here I come Thank you dad - like I need an excuse for chocolate!

Light and dark

I saw a couple of little girls the other day playing with dolls and prams. When I was their age no one would have commented on that. It would not have been at all unusual. I clearly remember my dolls. I vaguely remember Belinda. I think she must have been my first doll, given to me by my grandfather. Sadly my memory of her is with a bashed in head!  I remember Elizabeth who lost her hair courtesy of my younger brother. If you had one of those - younger brother - you might know how it is! I remember Carol. She was a much later doll - and she could walk - kind of! And favourite of all, Glenys. She was named after a cousin. Where the other names came from I have no idea. But Glenys was special and I still have her. She's in bits at the moment, waiting for a trip to the doll hospital. In spite of all this talk of bashed heads and hairless dolls, I loved my dolls. I mothered them, was their nurse, doctor  and teacher, and walked them regularly in their prams. They became sadly neglected when our neighbour had a baby and then I had a real live 'doll' to take to the park. I used to knock on their door almost daily and ask to take the baby out. Nuisance or mummy's little helper? Who knows?!

There was something lovely about the little girls playing with dolls - in sharp contrast to the miniature witches and werewolves on the same streets at the same time. The contrast was as great as that between darkness and light. And it reminded me about how important it is to fill our children with good things - things of the light and not of the darkness. I'm conscious of being accused of pouring cold water on all the 'fun' of Hallowe'en. What harm is there after all in little children looking cute in witches' dresses and wizards' hats? All I can say is that year after year I see progressively more darkness about celebrations at this time of year. And we call it 'fun' - and even more troubling - 'normal'. 

And yes, this little doll loving girl thought that one day she'd be a mum. God's plan for me didn't include that. But I have had some amazing children in my life - and still do. And a while back, in Rwanda, guess what lots of them received from their mama - dolls! Giving away these little dolls, knitted for us by an older lady in a Residential Home, was a lovely experience. The look on the face of each child was truly priceless.