I came across some old videos the other day, when looking for something else. I had to convert them from their ancient format to mp4 to play and then I found myself with a little lump in my throat.
Which led to this
The Five Senses of my Father
I forget how he sounded
Though I’d know it anywhere.
I can still imagine his two day old bristles
On my eight year old cheek,
Smell his sweet sweat
Lathered in Old Spice,
See in my mind his moustache
At that rakish angle
Slipping to the right,
Remember him bristling
As he debated
With the radio…
But I cannot find
That voice
Amongst my adjectives.
It is as elusive
As my birth.
It’s the one sense I want back,
As without that voice
It makes no sense.
This is what I found. It’s part two of a video a friend made of the party I was thrown for my 40th birthday. He’s at the start, finishing something he wrote for the day. The rest is basically me saying ‘my goodness’ (because I knew better than to swear with small children and my mother around) at a memory book he, mum and the Textiliste created so you can happily skip that. You can also keep to yourselves any comments about the lemming nesting on my top lip or the fact that, once, last century, I grew hair on my head from places other than my chin, nose and ears…
TanGental 
What a lovely little video. Sweet to hear those childrens’ voices, all grown up now.
Your facial ensemble has the look of a Groucho Marx mask when you’re looking down and reading 😉
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I have no idea why you didn’t tell me that when you first knew me!!
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Wow – I wish I had a video of my dad! You’re a lucky lad!
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yep..
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I am in full tears what with it being 5 weeks since my beloved poppa passed. Quite a while ago, I began saving random telephone messages just so we could hear his voice again. ❤
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Oh Annette, I’m so sorry to hear that. Sending love your way. ♥️♥️♥️
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Ah Annette, yes that must hit home. I hope the rollercoaster of grief is being gentle with you. Even though it is coming up to 18 years – bloody hell – since he passed I still find I’m caught out by a picture or a sound. There’s a summer bird over here, the peewit, named because that’s its call – who dad loved for the sort of Elvis quiff it sports. When I hear a peewit, I’m transported to 1965 and watching them feed and call while dad told us stories of his childhood on a local farm… I don’t think I’ll ever move beyond grief but it has been wrapped in other memories so its sting has been largely drawn; may yours be too
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What a great memory. I would love to hear my dad’s voice.
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I can’t stop popping back to listen
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A treasure, Geoff.
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Indeed it is delightful
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A fine birthday poem. I see that poetry is in the blood.
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I’d love to say my output is as good as his but…
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Lovely memories, thank you for sharing, best of all the voice.💜
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oh yes, that voice…
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It’s always wonderful to hear it…. I wish I had a snippet of my Dad 💜💜💜
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Just perfect!
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thank you
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So very special 🥰 what lovely memories you’ve shared.
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thank you; it was both a joy and a shock!
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What beautiful memory, His Geoffleship. 🤗
Treasure it 💛
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I will; the children have been quite taken with it; they were young teens when he died.
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🤗
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What a wonderful idea to give you a life book. And how marvellous that you have this video of your father.
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The life book is lovely as it was curated by my wife and parents so contains what they consider important; that in and of itself is intriguing.. and the video… yep, just perfect.
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What an amazingly glorious find. Keep that one close. What I wouldn’t give for something similar. My dad’s been gone almost 30 years and I still miss him like crazy. 😘
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As I was just saying to Annette, it’s now 18 years and the grief, while the rawness has been drawn, retains its power to surprise and jolt; this, though has just given me a rash of grins…
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Go with the grins!!😘
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Oh, my goodness, how similar were your voices
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It’s been said before. I wonder what he thinks of that
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That was wonderful, Geoff. What a treasure. I love it when you get sentimental. Keep that recording in a safe place and revisit it often. ❤
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I will; I will. And the older I grow, the more of a soppy mess I can become. My daughter now watches me for signs of insipient sniffles…
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Ha ha ha ha. So wonderful.
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Lucky man, Geoff. I would love to have a video with my father’s voice. I think the voices are sometimes the hardest things to remember.
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I hadn’t thought how impossible it was to remember or recall it or describe it until I heard that. Yes, I am lucky
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It must be quite odd to now be close to your father’s age in that video. Loved getting a glimpse of the man. Great video.
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Yes, that’s true; he was 70 and i’m now… getting close!
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What a find! How lovely to have.
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You bet; lump in the throat time when I played it
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So adorable. Brought a lump to my throat too.
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Aw, that’s what parents do, the toads; mine sit on my shoulders, taking turns at good conscience/bad conscience making all my decisions a reference point to their insights, prejudices and opinions. Often its useful because, by ignoring them I feel a little bit like an adult.
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Yeah, they are a pain, aren’t they? Between parents and children, we swim constantly in a cesspool of conscience.
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Yep so true. I promised myself that I’d not impose on my children those rules and conventions of my parents that drove me potty. And I didn’t. Instead I came up with my own set that my children abhorred… que sera, sera
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Enjoyed the video and the tash.
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What a treasure that video is–and good luck coming across it. It must have given you quite a few thoughts and reactions. I think the only video I have of my parents was taken at their 50th anniversary some 20-odd years ago. This makes me think I should revisit it and update its format.
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Do, it was very easy. Yes, seeing the children, my brother and both parents… lots of tugging emotions
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My goodness. No wonder you had a lump in your throat.
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It was a gem of a find
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😍
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Hi Geoff, what a great poem your father read for you. He really was into poetry for every occasion. The book is a great gift.
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He was. He sometimes moaned about the pressure but he loved being loved
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