Today was Dad's birthday

Born in 1907, my father was the second oldest of nine. One older brother, five younger brothers and two sisters. This photo of him with his parents and siblings was taken at the start of World War II, with the fourth eldest son in uniform having joined up early. All the sons except the youngest (front left) and one who failed the medical (front right) joined "the war effort" in one way or another. Three were in the Army, one was a stoker in the Navy, and my father (back left) joined the Ambulance Corps.

All returned alive from overseas service. My father suffered a fractured spine (without neurological damage) when a truck crashed over a bank on training in Fiji. His brother in uniform here had severe eye damage from sand in North Africa, and went blind at a young age. Second youngest of the sons(front centre) had severe emphysema from being in the engine room of a warship, and died a lingering death from lung failure at a young age. 

Their parents could rejoice that all came home. Not one of them who went, returned feeling gung ho. None talked to the next generation about it; they got on with their lives as best they could. Not one of them had heard of Viktor Frankl, logotherapy, or his lectures collected under the title "Yes to Life: In Spite of Everything". But all lived lives that demonstrated Frankl's thesis; Life has meaning and purpose when we look outwards to what we can do for others. 

I did not know it at the time; my father was "just" my father. However, the example he showed, helped make me who I am. And I am proud to have (with the help of my dear S) passed on to our children and now grandchildren, that outward looking attitude, that finds meaning in the worst as well as the best that happens.

Not long before he died my father gave me a small photo album of photos of him, his family and of me as a child. He did the same for my siblings. O the day of his birth, and in his honour, I have photographed the old photo. The extra was taken as I started the journey home this evening. An unusual view of the central city at sunset.