My dad works just over the fence from my school. Sometimes he pokes his face over the fence.
So he did, and on the odd occasion I saw him stick his head over to seek me out on the playground during lunch, there I’d be, ambling around, almost certainly waiting for the bell to ring so we could all go inside and I’d not have to be out there any longer, often with children I didn’t like or understand; there I’d be, and when I saw him it always made my day better.
I’d wave, he’d wave, and then we’d turn away to go back to our respective days.
Now his days are over and I can still hardly believe it.
Ronald James Browne – 18th August 1949 – 19th February 2009.
