For My Daddy: Pete Leonard
by Published on 22nd December 2012 05:05 PM
Dad you were always the captain of our ship. Never showing your anxieties, you were a proud & brave man, respected by many who we could turn to & rely in times of doubt. You did an excellent job of setting us on the correct moral latitude throughout our childhood years & were always there when we needed you. If something broke you could be sure that dad would be able to fix it. If someone upset mum the words “Wait til your father gets home” would strike terror into our hearts. The anticipation of your arrival was of course always worse than the actual event.
One of my earliest memories of you was driving your car. You used to drive us over to see our grandparents on a regular basis. I can remember listening to radio Caroline on the way home & feeling safe with you at the helm. I’d inevitably fall asleep in the back of your car & you’d carry me in your big strong arms & put me safely to bed.
Throughout our teenage years you would willingly drive us to various locations without complaint despite the fact that you’d spent all week on the road in your car. In fact it was you who ensured I arrived at work on time every Saturday as you dropped me off at Boots & then took mum shopping.
When I was at college you would happily drive me back & forth to Brum. I used to look forward to seeing your smiling face & listening to music in your car as you then expertly navigated the long voyage back to Harlow where mum would be waiting & I’d feel welcome by you both to be back in my own home.
At one point I was isolated in a remote cottage with no phone, no washing machine & a young baby Roz. You regularly popped in to see if I was o.k. & collect my washing which you’d take home to mum & then return. One time you arrived just as I was having a major meltdown about a disembowelled shrew which our cat had chased all over the kitchen. You calmly removed it & put it out of its misery & to me that day you were a superhero. In fact throughout my life you have always been my hero.
When mum was ill you took on all the household duties & cared for her without complaint. When she died you held my hand & reassured me despite the fact that you too were devastated by her loss.
The memories are too many to mention but I shall never be able to look at a Xmas pudding without thinking of you setting light to ours with copious amounts of brandy. An inferno that would never pass a health & safety risk assessment these days! Whenever I hear jazz music I shall think of you. Every time I eat lasagne I will think that it can never be as good as the ones dad used to make. As I plant my hanging baskets I will recall your spectacular displays. When people send me jokes via email I shall miss yours. But mostly I shall miss being able to come & visit you as you were always so glad of my company & we’d have great reminiscences in your conservatory as we watched the birds on your feeder. I will miss you bringing me a cup of tea in bed. I will miss going to the pub for a meal & a pint with you. But mostly I will just miss you, a witty & eloquent conversationalist who always saw the funny side of life & remained positive for everyone’s sake throughout your illness.
A girl could not possibly wish for a better dad. You were my best friend, my hero, my confidante & my life will be incomplete without you as part of my crew. You have made me appreciate the true meaning of the word dad & I’m honoured to have shared 49 years of your colourful life.
Your final words telling Mark & I to “bugger off” made me smile when I learnt that you had gone. That was typical Pete, captain of the ship wanting to navigate his own way to the end whilst trying to protect his children. I wish you calm seas on your voyage to be with mum again.