John Rutherford and his con flab e dab e dozie family tree
John Rutherford's family tree
John Rutherford's family tree
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waiting for Bruce, who has to get a delivery together, Mervyn explains the sign<br />
‘Lower your gaze’ above <strong>his</strong> machine – flirting with women is OK, but infidelity is<br />
wrong, so lower your gaze – refreshingly succinct.<br />
Bruce takes me to Doves, with CD player, Frank <strong>and</strong> my laptop with a couple of pics<br />
of dad. We go in at about ten to twelve <strong>and</strong> set up laptop <strong>and</strong> CD player, we are<br />
not expecting many, if any, but about seven or so bowls club people turn up. I am<br />
surprised that there doesn’t seem to be a coffin, <strong>and</strong> that there are not any ‘mates’<br />
that Nancy could have <strong>con</strong>tacted, but then I remember he never was one for mates,<br />
<strong>and</strong> that I suppose the bowls club bunch were <strong>his</strong> pals – although none speak to me<br />
or Anne.<br />
50<br />
Jade does her welcome chat <strong>and</strong> explains about no minister <strong>and</strong> that we would<br />
just like to play some music dad liked <strong>and</strong> those present should take a moment to<br />
celebrate <strong>and</strong> remember the life of James Beckett <strong>Rutherford</strong>.<br />
I’m trying desperately to think of dad but end up thinking of mom, <strong>and</strong> Brian, both I<br />
never got to say goodbye to either. Added to a long list of serious illnesses Brian had<br />
to <strong>con</strong>tend with my sibling teasing, I sometimes teased him until he cried ... what<br />
an awful shit brother I must have been. Pulling myself back from the welling tears<br />
... Dad ... yes he would come home from work, sit in <strong>his</strong> chair reading the paper<br />
with us all huddled around the radio, <strong>and</strong> as the evening wore on the shuffling<br />
turning of the pages of the Daily News would be replaced by a jerk-collapsing of the<br />
broadsheet as it crumpled over <strong>his</strong> face ... <strong>and</strong> then that magnificent snoring.<br />
Funny, I don’t ever remember him having a bath – <strong>and</strong> never saw him naked –<br />
even when we went swimming. In the changing rooms, he would change around<br />
a corner. Oh yes ... swimming in the Municipal Baths in the centre of Durban was<br />
an early memory, where he could swim underwater from one end to the other –<br />
something I tried to copy ... <strong>and</strong> that, I <strong>con</strong>clude, really sums it all up – my whole<br />
life has been about trying to please him, almost all achievements have been done<br />
JOHN RUTHERFORD AND HIS CON-FLAB-E-DAB-E-DOZIE FAMILY TREE
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