Gremlin’s Fireside Chat

We buried Dad today (March 14^th); It went well, and I think he would have liked the well-spring of positive feelings about him as a man, father and friend; To be honest I cannot remember a bad word ever been said about my father – he was just that kind of man. If you had a problem, or was in a dangerous situation you could rely on my father. I think there was around 300 people at the Church in Bohermeen, Navan, and the Lord kept the weather fine.

From a personal perspective I have a couple of “issues� with the service – these were that the priest would not allow me to say a short speech of thanks and some thoughts on my father as part of the service. Apparently people have been slandering others and being disrespectful to the deceased in previous funerals – something I find absolutely appalling and beyond belief!!! It is just not done. The second thing was we could not carry dad from the Church to the grave (100 yards if that) because of a parish circular that said “people have slipped and sued the Church� recently whilst they were carrying the coffin. Health and safety gone mad. To carry the coffin is a privilege and an honour, if you fall over its your fault.

However these are minor things; Dad got a great send-off. Some relatives drove from England to Ireland and back for the funeral in the same day – exhausting to say the least.

As for me, I am not too sure  Da’s departure has not really sunk in yet; I am sure that in a month or so something will trigger a vast outpouring of grief, but at the moment I am numb at the loss and find myself talking out load to him. Goodbye Dad we all miss you.

This post is going to be short since I am very confused, angry, lonely and so very sad.

Yesterday (Monday March 12th 2007) my Father Barry Edward Thomas Leeson died in his sleep at Home in Ardbraccan, Navan, Co Meath Ireland. He did not feel a thing. He was only 69, but looked and acted much younger – last week he was digging drainage ditches in the back garden; he was that kind of man. A wonderful man. No son could wish for a better father and friend. And I miss him so much,

For those who are interested. Dads Funeral will be held at 11am March 14th in Bohermeen Parish church, Navan Co Meath,

I turned 42 last week, it still has not sunk in – a real bummer. Still “feel” like I am in my late 20’s (although my body feels in its late 50’s). There is nothing “good” about growing old I think except watching your kids and grand-kids grow up. Trouble is I have no kids yet

Well lets look at the positive side. I have a lovely wife who loves me and whom I love dearly; and a great set of parents and friends.

As an Irishman I think that I must be lacking, due to a combination of genes probably, something that the rest of my fellow countrymen and countrywomen posses. What is it that I am “missingâ€? that I hear you ask? well its telepathy. If not something that Board Failte – the Irish Tourist Board – seem to mention; but I think every tourist should be made aware of. The reason for this is that Irish drivers rarely (in some cases never) use their indicators to indicate where they are going – right at a round-about, left at a roundabout, over-taking, pulling in etc; and the only reason I can think of is that the average Irish driver is telepathic; I am not and it drives me nuts (WARNING Grumpy Old Man Alert). Why cannot people learn to use indicators – thats what they are there for, to INDICATE to your fellow drivers your intention. Its only good manners after all. Calm down gremmy, deep breaths – in, out, in, out.

Today is May the 2nd. Nothing too special, a nice day in Dublin; work went well and I relearned a couple of new things about Java and the nature of Watchdogs. But this is an aside. From the BBC On This Day site there were two items that brought back to me the passing of time and I am getting old. The first was on 2nd May 1997 The Labour Party Crushed the corrupt Tory government which had been in since 1979 with the promises of equality for all, justice for all and good clean, honourable Government. I was 32 at the time. I thought the world was becoming a better place – how wrong I was. Look in today’s British papers and you get pretty much what the Tories had become famous for – Ministers abusing power, ministers cheating on their wives or husbands, and incompetence in Government – in all cases the Ministers concerned trying desperately to cling on to their jobs and power; HOW can they hold up their heads in public – not only that but have the cheek to refer to each other as “the honourable memberâ€?; There is little honour between any of them. I won’t go on about imprisonment without trial (although terrorists should be hunted down with as much gusto as we can muster) or going to war on false pretences and telling bare faced lies to the public about it.

The other thing was on May 2nd 1982 the General Belgrano was sunk by a British Submarine and initiating the “hotâ€? period of the Falklands war. I remember it because I was a member of the British Armed Forces at the time (ah the time when I was fit, had hair and had a decent figure – fond memories). My Battalion was on a rifle-range and we were undertaking a Battalion shoot at the time – it was a warm sunny day I remember; It was the day I discovered that I could shoot better with my left hand than my right (I am right-handed by preference). The day was going fairly well for my company (D Company) but there was a buzz in the air about the war – will we be deployed, who do we know who’s out there, how will I react under real combat conditions? will my bottle go or will I be OK and not let my mates down? will there be any fighting or will the various governments back down. All these thoughts and feelings are natural in the circumstances.

The range tannoy system crackled into life sometime early in the afternoon and made a brief announcement giving the basics of what had happened – an Argentinian Cruiser sunk; no British casualties; probable Argentinian. The men – myself included – cheered and roared with delight with national and professional pride (that said, I am Southern Irish and was serving in the British Army, but the family has a history of this and the pay is much better than the Irish Army); At the time I clearly remember an inner disquiet. I remember thinking, “that’s it; no chance of peace now; why am I cheering; don’t these men realise that men have died – they may be Argentinian but they are men like you and me doing a job; it could be you, and somewhere and sometime soon a family is going to be devastated to learn they have lost a son, lover or husband. A child will be fatherless. It is an odd to feel elation and sadness at the same time, you would have thought that they are opposite emotions to a degree and you would feel either on or another.

It really made me think about war, humanity. I often think of the Falklands. Fortunately I was never deployed there. But I knew people who did and some who went and never came back alive. A military funeral is a solemn and majestic thing in many ways – and it really brings home the sacrifice of those millions who fell in the slaughter of the first world war; but to loose some one who is only 18,19, 20 is not the way it should be. We were, and many of those sent out as cannon fodder are little more than children with guns. What a waste of so much potential. What has humanity come to?