Letters To My Father

Jan Leeming

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Jan's Blog

Computers and the internet are amazing things. One of my concerns with putting together this site was that it could remain current, yet with all my travelling I've often much to say, but little time to say it. Years ago when reading the news it would take me days on end to reply to the kind letters people sent. Now, with the magic of the modern age, I can keep you up to date with what I'm doing and other events in my life.


Date: 11th March 2015

My father died in October 2014 just 4 months short of his 100th Birthday.  

Daddy was in the Army - Royal Artillery - having come to the UK in 1937 from India the country of his birth.  He was sent on two tours of duty to Malaysia.  On the first he had a recurrence of Malaria and had to come home after a year and on the second occasion many years later he was sent to Singapore again.

On the occasions he was away I wrote many letters to him - unfortunately not dated but the first batch would have been written when I was around 7 years of age and the others a few years later.  On tidying up his belongings, my half sister came across a pile of these letters and home made greetings cards which she sent to me.

I was incredibly touched that throughout his very long life and many house moves, my father had treasured these letters as I shall do now and only hope my son sees their value especially in these modern times when people don't write to each other on sheets of paper but send emails etc.

He had also kept a very small album of my 'baby photos' with the name Janet engraved on the front.  It was in Australia that my name was shortened to Jan - they seem to have an aversion to any name with two syllables!!  My son Jonathan, who now resides in Sydney Australia, answers to 'Jono'.

As an army child I would have been entitled to one holiday with my father in Singapore - unfortunately the Suez crisis intervened and all travel was stopped so I never did get to visit him.  

This is one of the letters I sent to him but because it isn't dated I'm not sure at what age I wrote it.  But reference to my sister's first tooth would suggest that I wrote this in 1949 when I was 7.  You can see that we lived in the 'now notorious' John Wilson Street.


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