On the 18th February 13 years ago today my Dad left his physical body after a long illness with dementia. It was an honour to be with him that day with other family members sat around his bedside. I still feel privileged that I was able to be present with he left. When I think about that day I feel a sense of humility. It was a humbling experience.
Dad was one of the most self assured men I've ever known, apart from my husband Alan. He danced to the beat of his own drum and never worried about what people thought about him. I remember being with him at a local hospital one Saturday morning, I must have been around 11 or 12. He'd been asked by the police to identify the body of a man who had no known family or friends. After we'd been kept waiting over 20 minutes he firmly told the young policeman, "If you don't call me in soon I'm leaving!" Within two or three minutes he was called. I remember when I was little he built a red sports car from a kit. He worked around the clock and painted on bare canvas through the night. He bound books, he illustrated children's books, he was an art teacher, he printed, he sculptured, he was a photographer, he sold cars. He loved music, he played music, he loved red wine and good food, he like to write poetry, he loved the sunshine and holidays. He loved his little cottage in a village in Spain, he liked to read, he liked to learn, he spoke Spanish dialect and traditional Spanish. He worked hard, he designed and got our house built before I was born, he pushed for that and would do without to achieve that goal. He only ate a biscuit for lunch at the school he taught at during that period to help make that happen. He had an abundance of productive energy. For all his offspring who find this page, it will give you a tiny glimpse into the character of Eric Eswod Wright.
Many times you'd go to Mum and Dad's house, which was a lovely welcoming and homely hub for the entire family. You'd walk in and hear Dad's music from the speakers in the living room, fed in from the lounge where he'd be sitting. He would be playing Julio Iglesias songs. He loved this music and so did Mum, she'd often cry at some of the tracks! This is for the memory of those times Dad, I can see you with a glass of red wine in your hand and Julio Iglesias romantic tones flowing through the house.
This is Julio Iglesias - El amor
