My father was Welsh and worked and lived in the coal mines of Gelli, pronounced GETHLY. When he moved to London with my mother he became what was then called a Navvie, he worked digging up streets and roads.

He was a very strict father and I can still feel his belt on my rear when I answered him back, I only did it once.

Mum had to end up sat on my lap to protect me from that buckle.

I was 16 years old at the time,

There isn't really much to write about dad, he worked hard and worked hard at home too, we used to keep chickens and rabbits, Dad had 5 German shepherd dogs, they were all trained by him but the training was done with kindness.

I often thought he loved those dogs more than me but I was wrong.

He was not Joyce's father but was a good father to her.

He loved his cars, in those younger days of mine we owned 3 cars, an Austin 12 and an Austin 6 and a beautiful Riley that was convertible.

We did not have much money but dad would never part with those cars.

I remember the day that mum passed, my dad cried, held me and said, it is only you and I now. Joyce was married with her own family and house.

I looked after him as best as I could.

In the following July of mums passing I married my boyfriend, Dennis, that only lasted 2 months, he was always saying that I did not do things like his mother so in the end I told him to go back to his mother.

I met Fred ( my beloved husband to be ) through my father.

One of our dogs had swallowed something and was choking and Fred asked if he could help, dad asked if could run me to the vet, he did this and that was the start of my great romance.

Fred and I eventually moved to Bristol, dad came down for a holiday, I was at work when our neighbour called in to give me a lift home but I had another half hour to do, Billy said he would wait, how kind of him I thought.

When we got home to our flat Fred met me and took me into the living room and told me that dad had gone.

I said, why, he only arrived yesterday, it was then explained that dad had passed away that afternoon just before I should have been leaving work for home.

We had found out that dad had lung cancer when Dennis and I retuned from our honeymoon.

Dad had gone to bed because he felt tired, he woke up coughing a lot, our fellow flat mates had a nasty accident in their car and their Dr was visiting them both. Fred asked her if she could come and look at my father, she said " there is nothing I can do, He has gone beyond helping ".

They did an autopsy and found that his vessels were clogged and that when he coughed so violently his aorta had burst, he would have been unconscious within seconds and dead within minutes.

Dad is buried here in Bristol.

Mum is in London, dad here, I never visit their graves as they are not there, only the shell that I could see and touch, they are both within my heart and when I go to bed at night I say my payers and I chat to all of them.

I know they are close by whenever I need them.

DUW BENDITHIO TI DADA
GOD BLESS YOU DAD
YOUR LOVING DAUGHTER JO

Jo Somerset