HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIR..
85yrs ago today.. in a home in Manchester, Jamaica.. Hilda and John Morgan laid eyes on a miracle.
85yrs ago today someone truly amazing came into the world. 85 years ago today someone absolutely and categorically spectacular steped into this world.
Your parents probably had no idea of the impact you would have on this world. Probably a good thing that they didn’t, how would they handle such an amazing gift from God? One who would be a great child, who would turn into an amazing man, who turned into wonderful father and grandfather and later become the well seasoned Great Grandfather.. who knew!?
It’s your birthday, highly unlikely you’re aware, but thats ok.. it’s us who need to celebrate you.. I FaceTimed you to wish you a happy birthday.. always an entertaining experience as I dont think you get the concept. Pictures..that talk..and move..and I have to talk back too.. lol ..But to look at you.. looking at me.. I Bless God to be looking at you at the ripe age of 85 and not laying flowers at a grave side. Bless God forever!
Your eyes light up when you see Noah. You’ve always had a special bond with that one..
Sir, you’re simply amazing. You’re more than special, you’re more than unique. You are all man.. all gentleman..and all father.. I couldn’t have asked for a better person in my life.
I forgot to ask about the fried dumplings..
Ive not tasted, seen or smelt any like yours in all my 31 years. Your fried dumplings make up some of my earliest memories and I cant believe I forgot to ask about them.. the smell, the taste, the texture..
How do you get them so perfectly golden on all sides..? No milk.. no butter but still the softest centre ever known.. how comes they never burn in the dutch pot.. the edges dont touch the pan but they too are just as perfectly golden as the rest..how do you do it?
Flour I have, water I have, salt I got.. but.. but it’s just not quite right..
Was it the time taken to kneed the dough.. maybe it was the perfect balance of water to flour or maybe it was just the perfect mix of you and anything you put your hands to that did it.. I’m going with the latter..
I figured out soup of many varieties.. stew peas.. curry goat.. I even started frying fish.. I know you’d be proud since I was adamant I would never. That was undeniably and categorically your job.. but I guess you cant now..
But Im gutted I never asked about the fried dumplings! That will be one culinary experience I cant pass down to my children. One the world will miss.
Till next time. X
A letter to my (Gran) Dad…
I know you’re still in there.
I can see it in your eyes. Your condition has you locked like a prisoner in your own body. Present and yet so absent, but I know you’re in there. The odd times you smile and remember who I am. I cherish each time you say my name. I know you’re still in there.
I’m sorry I force you to talk to me, almost nose to nose with you, invading your personal space.. I’m just making sure you’re still in there..
It pains me to see you like this.. now I know why you were such a story-teller. And would tell a story for the 20th time like it was brand new. Because God knew that, one day, a day like today..there would be no more stories.. well not that I can always make sense of..your stories now mix present with the past and make me stop and think.. but I guess it makes sense to you. You always want to know what shift Im on, or tell me about your urgent need to get to the office.. but I know you’re still in there.
My daddy, my friend.. I know you’re still in there..