Reg

I am late in posting my blog today; Sunday, the end of week thirteen and the beginning of week fourteen.

Today is Father’ Day in the UK and a day I hope that many will be celebrating with their Fathers.
I understand that for some it may be with sadness and for all sorts of reasons. I know too that for some it will be difficult with heartbreak and loss.

My Dad calls this time “Double Bubble Weekend” because usually as with this weekend, it is also his birthday!

My Dad (Reg) was 90 years young yesterday and the big planned family get together did not happen, it is postponed due to COVID-19.

We did have a celebration but it was small and without hugs, as a family we have agreed to follow the social distancing rules to the letter. I have not hugged my children since lockdown, my arms are empty and aching more than ever.

Yet we still laughed, laughter is the emotion most people feel when they hear stories about my dad, Reg.

Reg is a legend inside and outside of our family.

There are so many stories, it was difficult to know which one to tell. So, I thought I would go with one from my childhood and although I really can’t remember it too well (I was very young) it is the one that always makes me laugh because it sums him up completely.

When I was small our holidays were always camping holidays and often with my cousins, this is a story about one of those times:
We were all on our way for a camping holiday in Devon but we had broken down (a common occurrence of my childhood holidays) and it took a while for the AA to find the part needed and to then send us on our merry way.

It was gone midnight, dark and full of torrential rain, a typical British August. My Dad who was the only driver thought it best to find the nearest campsite due to the inclement weather.

They somehow managed to find a signpost to a local campsite in the darkness and we headed towards it. My Dad then drove to a grassy patch and decided to pitch the biggest tent (we had two, one for each family) and to all pile together for the night. Three sleepy young children and four tired adults and pay the site fee the next day.

In the morning, my Dad remembers the heat of the sun making the canvas steam and then a really loud ‘Vrooom, Vrooom’ sound and thinking that it sounded ridiculously near.

It was, my Dad zipped open the tent to find he had pitched the tent (the tent we had slept in, all night) smack bang in the middle of a roundabout on the A30!

There are so many more stories I could share but the image of this one is priceless.

Just one of the many reasons my Dad is known as ‘Reg the Lege.’

This is a short blog today, to celebrate my Dad. My Dad who is still adding to these stories and is still camping!

I hope this makes you smile, something we need in the world right now.

For Reg my hero!

Enjoy today,

Joy xxx