A Father, Husband, Grandfather and Soldier.

This morning my father Ernest Stocks died.
He was 82 years old and had a good life. He was a father to 5 children (3 boys, 2 girls) and a Grandfather to 8 and just recently a Great Grandfather to 1.

He served in the army just after WWII over in the middle east. Long before Sadam Hussain or Bin Laden made it fashionable to point fingers and spout hatred against the region. He was there as they ripped the region apart to create Israel. He saw his friend shot and was himself shot at while over there and spent much of his old age recounting stories from that time, as many of his generation do. In fact he used to joke that he was the only private to serve in the army over there as everyone of his age that he ever talked to always claimed to be a Captain, Sargent, Corporal or any other type of officer, but he was always proud to say he was just a private. After all it wasn't about rank it was about being there, just like the troops of today.

After his time over there he married his sweetheart, my mother Maureen (whom my daughter was named after) and they remained married until she passed away 21 years ago. He worked hard to provide for his family and eventually moved into what was to become the family home, which he bought for a song back in the late 70s early 80s. As I grew up I soon learnt that he had a strict and steady hand and was a man not to be crossed. He was harder on my brothers and sisters than he ever was with me as I was the youngest. In fact there used to be a belt hung by the fire place that was used to discipline us but I escaped ever feeling its sting as one of my siblings removed it from its hook and made it disappear, to this day I don't know who it was. Though for all his strict rules and attitude he always ensured we had at least one holiday a year. And it was always fun.

He was a hard man, a bastard who on occasion made my mother cry. He worked hard and drank hard, liked his whisky and like his beer and up until a few years ago he loved his cigars and pipe. He was a blasphemous, racist bigot, hated God and half his fellow men. A true product of his generation, as most of us are. A hard man who was born into hard times. Raised on rationed food that was often out of date, brush of the mouse droppings and cut off the mould, its still good to eat. So said a man who died at 82, and yet we all throw out food that is 1 day past its use by date. He played in bombed out ruins with bits of wrecked furniture and vehicles and yet, even without a health and safety mad society, somehow survived into old age. He lived through a war where the dead didn't make the headlines as you couldn't fit all the names of the dead on the front page without using an unreadable font size. and later when it was his turn to serve found himself being shot at by some of the very people we had been fighting to save.

Through his life he had suffered a few heart attacks and approximately 11 different types of cancer. He drank and smoked and survived. Life threw many obstacles at him over the years but he kept on keeping on. In the end it was the after effects of a 2nd stroke that finally brought this man among men down.

My daughter never really got to know him as there was 200 miles between us, but she will grow up knowing of him and my mother. He will be missed dearly but it was time for him to go. Suffering is undignified and unnecessary for all of us and one day the law will evolve beyond the narrow minded morons that would keep people suffering for as long as they possibly could. At least he suffered little in his last days and finally slipped away in his sleep.

Me, 1 month old Kara Maureen and Dad 2009

My Dad with My fantastic Romanian In-Laws 2006

Here's to my Father who will be missed and loved by all. I hope he's managed to finally hold hands with Mum once more, he's been waiting 21 years to be able to see her again.

Ernest Stocks 1929 - 2012

Till next time.....

The Voice has spoken.