| Author: | A.J. Sudbury | ISBN: | 9781311504159 |
| Publisher: | A.J. Sudbury | Publication: | July 13, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | A.J. Sudbury |
| ISBN: | 9781311504159 |
| Publisher: | A.J. Sudbury |
| Publication: | July 13, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
My father spent most of his working career in the Royal Air Force (RAF). Although he is in his eighties now, and long retired, he still believes - and expects - that everything should run according to the duty roster posted in the Guard Room. That everything happens to order, in order. No questions. Is that understood?
Breakfast is at eight O’clock in the morning, pronounced "oh-eight-hundred." Lunch at half-past one ("thirteen thirty hours"). Laundry on Wednesdays. Soup on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, etc., etc.
After leaving the RAF, and after a short stint with the Ministry of Defence, he left the military and got a job with a software company where he struggled to adapt to civilian life. But he did adapt, and this job saw him out to his retirement. Shortly after he retired, my mother became very ill, having contracted a terrible degenerative condition. After a few hospital stopovers, she moved into a home where she lived until one morning, mercifully, she didn’t wake up.
My father sold the house, and bought a flat on the south coast that overlooked the sea. This was the land of his parents and his formative years, and this is where he lived until one morning he had an accident, and was taken to hospital. I would visit him, and on occasions he would ask me to run errands for him - one of which was to go to his flat and pick up his wallet, chequebook and some papers. It was during that visit that I realised that he wasn’t able to look after himself any more. I discussed the situation with my wife, and together we decided that he would come and live with us.
This collection of stories is an irreverent account of how we all got on. Although I have changed people’s names and place names, everything that I have written actually happened.
And continues to happen.
A.J.Sudbury, February 2014
My father spent most of his working career in the Royal Air Force (RAF). Although he is in his eighties now, and long retired, he still believes - and expects - that everything should run according to the duty roster posted in the Guard Room. That everything happens to order, in order. No questions. Is that understood?
Breakfast is at eight O’clock in the morning, pronounced "oh-eight-hundred." Lunch at half-past one ("thirteen thirty hours"). Laundry on Wednesdays. Soup on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, etc., etc.
After leaving the RAF, and after a short stint with the Ministry of Defence, he left the military and got a job with a software company where he struggled to adapt to civilian life. But he did adapt, and this job saw him out to his retirement. Shortly after he retired, my mother became very ill, having contracted a terrible degenerative condition. After a few hospital stopovers, she moved into a home where she lived until one morning, mercifully, she didn’t wake up.
My father sold the house, and bought a flat on the south coast that overlooked the sea. This was the land of his parents and his formative years, and this is where he lived until one morning he had an accident, and was taken to hospital. I would visit him, and on occasions he would ask me to run errands for him - one of which was to go to his flat and pick up his wallet, chequebook and some papers. It was during that visit that I realised that he wasn’t able to look after himself any more. I discussed the situation with my wife, and together we decided that he would come and live with us.
This collection of stories is an irreverent account of how we all got on. Although I have changed people’s names and place names, everything that I have written actually happened.
And continues to happen.
A.J.Sudbury, February 2014
