Scriptor's and my father, Morris Edwards, died 15 years ago today.
In the past I have posted photos of Dad. Today I might post a photo but I thought that I would relay some of my memories of him.
I can only recall two occasions when Dad got annoyed with me (there were probably lots but if there were he never showed it). One still strikes me as bizarre. I ate anything that was put before me as a child. Until one day at dinner celery appeared. I remember nothing about how or why celery appeared (I can't imagine that it was a usual food 65 years ago) on the dinner table but it did. I wouldn't eat it. Dad asked me to leave the table. The fact that it was so unusual can be demonstrated by the fact that I can still recall it.
Another memory is of climbing
Moel Fammau as a youngster with Dad. I must have been very young because my brother wasn't with us. We were descending from the summit when a squall with very strong wind hit us and I was blown off my feet and at danger of being blown down the hillside. Dad did a rugby tackle lunge to catch me and keep me safe. It was a long, wet return home!
Dad was also a very calm person. During the war he was in a reserved occupation so couldn't join the forces. I recall someone saying to him "Ah but you weren't in the war were you?". To which Dad's response was "Being a fireman on the Liverpool Docks with bombs falling all round you wasn't exactly a bundle of laughs." And that was that.
Dad probably never recalled any of those incidents once they had happened. They've stayed with me for well over half a century.
Mum and Dad leaving Childwall Church on their wedding day.
