Knowing Alec Seath as brother, uncle, cousin, friend, patient or merely (if there was such a thing) as an acquaintance was an enlightening experience to say the least.
I stand here to introduce him to you as my father.
Throughout my 47 years he had always been there for me. When I was small and, it must be said, very accident prone, he was always there to pick me up and give me comfort when I needed it. Those huge bricklayer’s hands could be so gentle at times.
In my teenage years, he was the solid rock of the family, loving to my mother and me but with the ability to make me listen. When I made mistakes he would again pick me up, dust me off and set me on the right road. If I had done something wrong he was always there with wise words, sometimes brutally honest wise words - but always with care and love. He wasn’t perfect, but it may surprise you to learn, neither was I.
By the time I reached my twenties a friendship far beyond a father and son began to develop.
Twelve years ago my mother died and, such was the closeness of their relationship, part of my dad died with her. Never one for giving in however, he made the most of what he had left, taking up golf and painting. In many ways he had a better social life than me.
After my mother’s death, our relationship grew. I well remember taking him across to Millport a few months after - and renewing our bond. Just him and me and our dog Abby. He wasn’t a demonstrative man by nature but the look in his eyes on that trip said so much more than words could ever have done.
When things went wrong in my life whether from fate or a self destructive tendency on my part he was never judgemental. He never pried into reasons or consequences. He accepted and always said “I only need to know if you want to tell me.”
There are a couple of things leap to mind over the last three years when we had become even closer.
Firstly, three years ago, I had decided to take him away for a week to the Isle of Islay, one of my favourite places in the world. I had booked and paid for everything, the ferry, the B&B and a celebratory meal at the best restaurant on the island. We never said it but this was always going to be a celebration of our love and friendship. About halfway to the ferry we stopped to get some sweets for the rest of the journey and I popped into a local shop in Arrochar. Reaching into my back pocket I discovered with horror I had left my wallet with all the spending money for the week at home.
I came out of the shop worrying how we could get back home to pick it up and still get back in time for the ferry.
He asked me gently what was wrong and when I told him, without a smile or a word, he reached into his back pocket, drew out his wallet and said “Will £300 be enough?” The smile that grew on his face said it all. We had a great time that week. One of the best parts was when he said, during one of our many trips on the island. “You have really grown up haven’t you? I never noticed before.” Happy? You bet I was. And I did pay him back as soon as we got home.
The next big adventure with my dad was our trip to Norway two years ago. Rosie had been fortunate to win a free cruise after our visit the previous New Year. We took it for our birthdays at the end of January and decided to take my dad along when I won another cruise on that trip. When I suggested it to him he dismissed it as he had had enough travelling in his life.
A couple of months later when visiting him he casually showed me his application form for a passport. Our plans were set. At the end of September 2004 we boarded the ship and headed off for Norway. We had a really nice time socialising on board. It wasn’t until we reached Norway that we discovered that his choice of clothing didn’t really suit the weather we were expecting. After all he didn’t have his mother to tell him Norway in September might be a wee bit chilly. Nonetheless. After sorting out that little problem and him buying a new dapper woolly hat and wearing a spare warm jacket I had brought, we had a great time.
One of my fondest memories was when we took the funicular railway to the top of Mount Fløyen, standing at the top; drinking hot chocolate; looking over the city and him standing with his arms round Rosie and smiling for the camera. He always liked his hugs.
His final journey over the last nine months he has not taken alone. There have been so many concerned people asking after him, visiting, sending cards and more. He was truly blessed with his friends and relations.
Well dad, no more stories of how far you could drive a golf ball, partially finished paintings littering the living room, unexpected trips to Inverness when intending to go to Dundee, and thankfully no more Donald Duck impressions.
Every one of us will miss him in different ways; but I cannot think of a more fitting end to all this as quoting a line from his good pal David’s book regarding one of their many travels when young and full of life when they had to part in Egypt.
This is from a chapter entitled “The Parting of the Ways” and I paraphrase.
This is from me too Dad:-
“It will be strange travelling without Alec. We’ve been good pals. It’s going to be lonely. And it is”.