A Day in May

May 20th is Fathers birthday.

A few days before every 20th of May the phone lines, e -mails and skype would be frantically active as the five of us Thomson siblings conferred on the matter of what we could buy, either collectively or individually for the man who has everything and has never, in my memory, actually asked for anything from us.

This represents a great dilemna . In previous years we have presented him with vouchers for something that we thought he might like. These were well received in his rather shy and embarassed manner which was one of his endearing qualities. Surrounded by his large family it was easy for us to forget that he had grown up as an only child and very much left to make his own entertainment. Do not get me wrong. He was happy and at ease with us but quiet ,reflective and private moments will have been few and far between in our noisy and demanding home life.

His interests were a good source of ideas and over the years we would buy him gifts for the car, the garden, walking, home improvements, books, CD's and DVD's. I was perhaps too reliant on the seasonal stock of Homebase and tended to over do it on things for the fantastically colourful, fragrant and productive patio whch every year erupted with planters, pots and hanging baskets. One year it was a terracotta formed tube for strawberry plants, a bit like the seconds you would find in the skip at the back of the Sankey chimney pot factory.

Another year I became a follower of the fashion for strange garden ornaments and purchased a very scaled down Easter Island statue. It had caught my eye in a display in the outdoor section of the DIY store. About 18 inches high in an authentic stone finish over the not so authentic plastic mould. I was fearful that, unlike the original full size figures, a stiff breeze would tip it over or even cause it to vacate the back garden via the boundary wall and have to be retrieved from the neighbours. The garden theme seemed to be a productive seam and this was followed in successive years with  yet more hanging baskets, garden seating and the desperate last minute choice of a silver mirror ball that could , in its reflection of sunlight both produce a seemingly infinite vista of the lawn, shrubs and flower beds as well as a hazard to high flying aircraft.

The best celebrations were those when we would all be there- quite a difficult thing logistically to do but a momentous and joyful time. An afternoon in the garden, just sat around talking in a group or with a chance of a private consultation to take advantage of his great experience and wise counsel in all worldly matters. Things that seemed insurmountable obstacles to us were shown to be easily manageable after such a session.

For his 70th birthday it was a full encampment of the family to the Lake District with riotous assembly, good food and wine and excellent company....and a lot of undulating rambling over hill and dale amongst them bloody daffodils.

2011 was a different birthday in that my own family attended a celebration over a chinese takeaway. It was a great night and many a complimentary comment was added to the written record of past meals. The phone kept ringing with the singing of Happy Birthday to Donald from siblings spread over the UK and the US.

We were not to know that we were at his last birthday party.

Today has been a strange day. The first May 20th without Father. He has certainly been with us as we have passed many moments with complete strangers. We have enjoyed talking about his cars and passions at the car boot sale as they have expressed admiration for the collection of components and tools that have now gone to be appreciated  in the sheds, workshops, garages and gardens of enthusiasts.