Mark writes about his father, Frank Seymour.

Author:  Mark Seymour.

Date: 24 December 2020.

Original URL: https://www.facebook.com/MarkSeymourOfficial

Article Text

He was 98 and a half.

We were beginning to wonder what would take him out.

Minimum kidney function. Needed a frame. But hey..

He was always up for a chat. About anything really.

And he smiled a lot.

Even after he fell. They put him back together, for the last time it turned out and the surgeon said,

“They rarely come back from stuff like this.”

but the old bloke just smiled and said

“I’m a bit buggered love.”

The staff loved him.

Old Frank. A joy to be with they said.

Love’s a strong word though don’t you think? It gets bandied about a bit much sometimes..

When I was young I used to tell myself to be careful around that word.

I wasn’t sure how to use it.. or if I lied when I said it..

But one day it just walks up silently and knocks you over.

Whether you like it or not, you will see it for what it really is.

The everlasting need to be near someone, the need to be asked how you are..

to know there is someone close by who really does mean it when they ask that simple question …

to feel the affection and kindness of others.

And when you see it etched in the face of a man who has lived through the great depression, the rise of Ghandi, the Irish civil war, World War Two, the dawn of Rock n’ Roll, the assassination of JFK, Vietnam, Apartheid, the sacking of Gough, and the

COVID AFL premiership,

Then to see him breath his last, to watch the chest rise and fall for the last time,

and to hear your sister say..

“I think he’s gone.’

Love was there. In that moment.

We have endured so much this year.

Be kind to each other this Christmas.

We are all fragile

x

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