Fathers and Sons .......
I finally turned the last page of my most recent book with a deep sense of sadness.
The book was a reading of the Odyssey as seen through the eyes of a College Lecturer but seen through the lens of his relationship with his own Father.
Odysseus and Telemachus.
Separated when Telemachus was only recently born and then reunited when Odysseus was an older man and Telemachus himself fully grown.
The Professor and his own father had issues but his father sat in on his class teaching The Odyssey commenting on Odysseus usually negatively.
In the end the book closes with the note that sons have much to learn from their fathers who are always older and bring more experience to the relationship.
I closed the book with such a strong sense of sadness because, as I thought of my own father I also thought about my Son.
When my father died, his ashes were brought from Australia and as I read the words, my Son William lowered his ashes into the grave alongside my Mother and my Grandfather Oswald Wilde and his wife Henrietta.
It seemed to me as I followed Odysseus journey back to Ithaca and his reunion with Penelope and Telemachus and as the author wrote of his own relationship with his father, that fathers should no outlive their sons.
It does seem to me that as I buried my father, and my son laid his ashes to rest, that the practise and the symbolism were as they should have been. However when, earlier this year, I laid my son to rest beside his mother the practise and the symbolism were simply wrong.
After William was born in 1980 the youngest of our four children, the first three of whom were girls, he and I began to build our relationship.
I recall a visit to Holy Island when the two of us walked around the shoreline discovering hidden treasures and planning great projects for the future.
I remember buying our first computer and introducing William to the internet before at the age of 12 or 13 he made such huge and natural strides that he became the leader and explorer in the promised land of the world wide web and I the attentive apprentice.
In the course of time he went on to study computing and electronic imaging at University.
He always moved ahead and was always his own man.
His swimming and his climbing became the two great loves of his life and in due course after passing his driving test he shared with me a love of motoring, always buying and driving cheap and not always cheerful cars, old bangers as some were.
To his mother's distress he also took his motorcycle test and after a couple of false starts became a keen motorcyclist.
I have two great memories of our relationship.
Two walking holidays, one following the Dalesway from Otley to Windermere, a great walk, which step by step allowed our relationship to deepen and strengthen, we walked, told tall tales, drank tall glasses of beer and grew closer. The other a sponsored walk in Ireland following the border, on this occasion we were joined by his long term girlfriend Fran.
And we fished together eventually just on my birthday's until I could no longer leave Janet to spend a whole day alone.
I am sure that there was much more that I could have done. I am sure that I could have been a better father. I am sure that I could have been wiser. But the one thing that I never expected was to outlive my son.
Despite the phrase one hears: 'death's gift' I have no sense of their being any gift here with this death. It leaves me deeply saddened, so much of what I hoped for and wished to see will not now occur.
It is as though Odysseus returns to Ithaca to find Telemachus gone. It is the feeling that one might associate with Daedelus who designs and builds great wings so that his son Icarus might fly free from Crete only to fly too close to the Sun and crash into the waves and drown.
My last conversation with William included the sharing of a possible dream that we might charter a yacht and together enjoy flotilla sailing in the Greek Islands, the dream was never realised, our odyssey didn't happen and I must continue to hold fast to the belief that William has gone on to glory and that we will in due course embrace again 'Merrily in Heaven'.
The book was a reading of the Odyssey as seen through the eyes of a College Lecturer but seen through the lens of his relationship with his own Father.
Odysseus and Telemachus.
Separated when Telemachus was only recently born and then reunited when Odysseus was an older man and Telemachus himself fully grown.
The Professor and his own father had issues but his father sat in on his class teaching The Odyssey commenting on Odysseus usually negatively.
In the end the book closes with the note that sons have much to learn from their fathers who are always older and bring more experience to the relationship.
I closed the book with such a strong sense of sadness because, as I thought of my own father I also thought about my Son.
When my father died, his ashes were brought from Australia and as I read the words, my Son William lowered his ashes into the grave alongside my Mother and my Grandfather Oswald Wilde and his wife Henrietta.
It seemed to me as I followed Odysseus journey back to Ithaca and his reunion with Penelope and Telemachus and as the author wrote of his own relationship with his father, that fathers should no outlive their sons.
It does seem to me that as I buried my father, and my son laid his ashes to rest, that the practise and the symbolism were as they should have been. However when, earlier this year, I laid my son to rest beside his mother the practise and the symbolism were simply wrong.
After William was born in 1980 the youngest of our four children, the first three of whom were girls, he and I began to build our relationship.
I recall a visit to Holy Island when the two of us walked around the shoreline discovering hidden treasures and planning great projects for the future.
I remember buying our first computer and introducing William to the internet before at the age of 12 or 13 he made such huge and natural strides that he became the leader and explorer in the promised land of the world wide web and I the attentive apprentice.
In the course of time he went on to study computing and electronic imaging at University.
He always moved ahead and was always his own man.
His swimming and his climbing became the two great loves of his life and in due course after passing his driving test he shared with me a love of motoring, always buying and driving cheap and not always cheerful cars, old bangers as some were.
To his mother's distress he also took his motorcycle test and after a couple of false starts became a keen motorcyclist.
I have two great memories of our relationship.
Two walking holidays, one following the Dalesway from Otley to Windermere, a great walk, which step by step allowed our relationship to deepen and strengthen, we walked, told tall tales, drank tall glasses of beer and grew closer. The other a sponsored walk in Ireland following the border, on this occasion we were joined by his long term girlfriend Fran.
And we fished together eventually just on my birthday's until I could no longer leave Janet to spend a whole day alone.
I am sure that there was much more that I could have done. I am sure that I could have been a better father. I am sure that I could have been wiser. But the one thing that I never expected was to outlive my son.
Despite the phrase one hears: 'death's gift' I have no sense of their being any gift here with this death. It leaves me deeply saddened, so much of what I hoped for and wished to see will not now occur.
It is as though Odysseus returns to Ithaca to find Telemachus gone. It is the feeling that one might associate with Daedelus who designs and builds great wings so that his son Icarus might fly free from Crete only to fly too close to the Sun and crash into the waves and drown.
My last conversation with William included the sharing of a possible dream that we might charter a yacht and together enjoy flotilla sailing in the Greek Islands, the dream was never realised, our odyssey didn't happen and I must continue to hold fast to the belief that William has gone on to glory and that we will in due course embrace again 'Merrily in Heaven'.
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