My father was the life and soul of any party.

He took care of the poorest of the poor, sometimes visiting ailing people in slums and back alleys, even though they didn’t have the money for medical treatment. He was the most uplifting and positive person in my life.Īs a doctor, he would instil this positive spirit in the care he gave his patients. He kept his days busy with a new found passion for gardening, cooking, reading and watching cricket. I would often ask my Mum if he seemed sad and depressed and that wasn’t the case. Ironically my Dad was an ear, nose and throat surgeon and had attended to numerous laryngectomy patients himself, throughout his long medical career.Įven though he lost his voice, my Dad never lost his ability to smile. But he made a good recovery after several months, although he did lose his ability to speak. First there was Covid and the following year, we found out that he had a malignant tumour in his throat and would need emergency surgery to remove it. The past two years had taken a toll on his health. It seems strange to write about my Father in the past tense and somewhat naively, I had lead 46 years of my life believing that it was something I would not have to do … at least not in the near future. Dad didn’t read a lot, but during lockdown and in later days, they were a huge source of comfort for him. Every birthday and Christmas he was sure to be given one of these beautiful hardcover Christie classics and over the years – he had assembled quite a nice collection. This would annoy me, no end.Īnd yet, there was one author who never failed to please my Dad someone he would always read with pleasure … and that author was the Queen of Crime, the unparalleled genius that was Dame Agatha Christie. This particular book was too descriptive, that book was too slow, another book had no plot or complicated language … and so every few weeks, a huge pile of unread books would be returned to me with a disappointed face. My Father was always the most difficult person to please when picking a book for him to read, from my personal library.

Five farthings by monica redlich