This blog is part of a series called a 'Life of Less Liberty.'
I wanted to write something for Easter, and it seemed fair to
make this more about memories of dad, as I recently wrote about mum for Mothers Day.
I thought I'd share something topical knowing that on Friday 20th March we
got to see a solar eclipse.
Thousands of eyes looked up at the sky. We were able to see many stars and even
one or two of our planets
in the morning sky. Dad would have
loved it and as you may remember I mentioned before that we enjoyed stargazing together when I was young.
There were no sat-navs to help pilots navigate their way
across the skies when dad was flying Mosquitoes in North
Africa. From a very early age dad would explain to me about all the
important things we could see in the night sky, for instance all the stars and constellations could assist
navigation although not quite accurate enough to get you to B&Q.
Dad and I had a routine in the evenings when I lived on the
farm. Before going to bed
we’d let the dogs out for their late night wee.
Whilst they were doing that, we’d walk over to the cattle shed to check on our
beef herd to see that all was well with the cattle. There was no light
pollution in our corner of Essex and if it was a cloudless night, the skies
were dripping with a billion twinkly stars. To look at this sight was always quite
magical and a shared time together for dad and I, but to me, in the early days
nothing more than that. Dad showed me all kinds of structures and pictures of
constellations which in the end made the night sky so interesting and
captivating. I have to admit I never quite understood how it was possible to navigate from ‘A’ to ‘B’ by
looking at the pole star, but it was always fun picking out particular
stars.
We often wondered if there was life out there or if UFO’s
were real and full of alien life. It was a theme we could go back to time and
time again. We’d wonder what aliens would be like – what they’d eat – what
they’d say and what we’d say to them. Dad was funny, and we’d laugh as he’d
adopt a funny voice and ask nonsense questions. It was just our time each day
just to ponder, and ensure all was well with our world.
It was a great way for dad to teach his philosophy to me, and
I believe his teachings today the same as I ever did. It’s a cornerstone to who
we were as a family, ensuring that we were always well grounded within the ebb
and flow of the seasons, and it kept our ideas from getting too big. Dad taught
me that we were a tiny, tiny part of something huge, that we had almost no
influence upon at all. However, he said what we could do was change and
influence some of the smaller things around us, especially so if we, together as
a local community all pulled together in the same direction.
It’s partly why dad never really liked or trusted central
Government and he didn’t believe that this was real democracy at all. He liked
the little local Parish Councils, and the village stuff far more, where acts of
kindness and generosity really did make a difference. Dad enjoyed doing good
deeds, and performing various acts of kindness. He taught me about the
importance of appreciating our good fortune, and why it was a good thing to
share that with others. He knew we were lucky and that life was to be
appreciated in that moment. That was the farmer in him, because nature could
change the weather in a heart- beat and ruin our crops but that was out of our
control – just had to make the best of it.
Dad really was a lovely man, and I was so lucky to have him
as my father. There is no question in my mind that he taught me the skills
necessary for me to have coped with thirty years of imprisonment. I’d like to
hope that he’d be proud of how I’ve survived this ordeal.
I’m often asked how I’ve kept so positive, in light of all
I’ve been through during my wrongful imprisonment, and for the most part it’s
because of all the wisdom and knowledge given to me by my mum and dad. They
taught me that our cup is always half full, and that no matter what, things
could be much worse. We should make the very best of the moment and don’t waste
a second of our lives because you can never get those seconds back. We should be
positive, because like attracts like, and that nothing good ever happened to a
serial moaner and complainer.
Above all dad taught
me that to overcome any trial or tribulation, we should use the strength within
each of us to get us through. No man is an island, and dad knew and taught me
that there was strength in numbers, but to succeed, that first step had to be
from a strong foundation within. Mum and dad took the time to ensure that I was
able to cope with whatever life threw at me, and an ability to enjoy the moment
no matter what. I’m forever grateful to mum and dad, because they did a really
good job in teaching me about how to be in this world, and how to make the best
of things.
I’m looking forward to the next chapter now, and I’m sorry I
can’t say any more than that, but dad loved that phrase. “Things always come
out in the wash”. The wrongfulness of my conviction is currently on that final
spin cycle, so we’ll see very soon if that greasy stain of corruption has been
removed – and I’ll hear dad’s words on the Appeal Court steps ringing loud in
my ears, “I told you so, things always work out for the best in the end.” I’ve
always known that to be true, and so no matter what, I’ve always hope, and for
that I owe my parents everything.
Happy Easter
Jeremy.