Poem for Dad

Today would've been Dad's 78th birthday.

It feels very odd, still, that he's not here to dispense his particular brand of wisdom, tell us one of his wonderful stories, or ask how my day's been. But I don't want today to be about what we've lost, rather to be about how privileged we have been to have had him in our lives. Tears of joy and gratitude, not sadness, then. I think he would've preferred that.

I've been meaning to post this for a long time, but today feels right. For Dad's funeral, Mum asked me if I wanted to say something. I did, but I didn't want it to be sad; I knew pretty much straight away what I wanted to do.

Over the last twenty years or so, Dad had started writing brilliant poems, for birthdays and Christmas. Mum even had one framed. My Nan once complained that she didn't have one, so Dad wrote one for her. When a Christmas present Mum had ordered for me looked like it might not turn up on time, Dad wrote one for me as a substitute until it arrived. They were glorious, witty, wonderful things, and for my reading I decided I would write one in his style about his life. And it worked – as I read it on the day I could see smiles on people's faces and laughter rang out around the chapel. A celebration, not a commiseration. And yes, everything mentioned in it is something that happened in his life.

So here it is. A Poem for Dad.

I think he would've liked it.

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Our story starts some years ago, in a place that we call Ealing,
Where in 1947 arrived a baby boy, no doubt squealing.

John he would call pop, and Georgie was his mother,]
While little Maggie aged just three now found she had a brother.

He was much loved and had much fun in those childhood days,
Especially when they all packed up and the family moved to Hayes.

Excelling at his school work in the long days of his youth,
Teenage Dave was once punished for painting yeti feet on the roof.

Tinkering with motor cars was a hobby he liked much,
And he once drove back from Austria without a working clutch.

As adult life begins for Dave it’s off to work we go,
He ends up working as a salesman for oil giant Texaco.

With longer hair and smarter clothes considered oh so trendy,
It was in an office in Twickenham that he met a girl named Wendy.

They got to know each other under harsh bright office lighting,
A fortunate occurrence as only she could read his writing.

An invite to a party was the start of something great,
And everything that followed was no doubt the work of fate.

Dave knew Wendy was the best thing to come into his life,
And he subsequently asked her if she would be his wife.

In December ’74 he slipped a ring upon her finger,

And the following year a son was born, his hair a vibrant ginger.

A happy little family now they numbered three,
But Mum and Dad were keen to grow the new Leng family tree.

A gin and tonic was supplied and soon there was another,
A cheeky blonde-haired scamp who would be Simon’s younger brother.

Dave and Wendy, Simon and Tim,
And after that he swore off gin.

This perfect little family made their home at 41,
And happy days were cherished there packed full of love and fun.

One Merry little Christmas sat in their lovely home,
Dave presented Wendy with a gift encased in foam.

Another year a lovely ring did Wendy happily pick,
And Dave would give it to her wrapped between two heavy bricks

Up and down the country, Dave would tirelessly parade,
Selling big machines for the forecourt car wash trade.

But for two weeks every year from his work Dave would flee,
Often for a family trip to the gorgeous West Country.

Long coastal walks would David bravely lead his family on,
And he wouldn’t ever stop even if the path was gone.

At home Dave loved his DIY, while Wendy she would cook,
Although he was never happier than with a new Tom Clancy book.

He’d settle in his armchair and begin to watch the news,
Then cross his legs, close his eyes and quietly begin to snooze.

Home was David’s castle and his armchair was his throne,
Though with his eldest, Simon, he watched racing at Silverstone.

He often praised his children for being the very best,
Though the youngest of the two could sometimes be a pest.

You’ll never get a job, Dave said, from watching sci-fi shows,
But the stubborn little bugger said what on Earth does he know?

And when the pesky little monkey, went and did just that,
Dave laughed and cheered and happily said that he would eat his hat.

When both kids grew, Dave and his love were left to live alone,
A loving couple, growing old, in their happy home.

Many happy memories spread throughout the years,
And Dave would always raise a glass to lead us all in cheers.

And even as the years went by Dave still looked upon his wife,
And with unabashed pride he said “that’s Wendy, the love of my life.”

As husband and father, Dave has always made us proud,
Now it’s time for my lovely Dad to go and find his cloud.