A Note to my Father: David Alan Jenkins

I suppose it was like a clock running down, the ticks becoming fainter and further apart, the mechanism loosening.  You were tired and in pain, but the previous day you had surprised us with your optimism.  Although this made the shock of your passing even worse, it meant that you managed to give each of us you gave a final happy memory: for my brother a long conversation, for my mother an unexpected word of congratulations, and for me an early morning phone call.  Even if you never intended them to be they are our keepsakes of you.  It seems to me now you were saying good-bye after a long and often contented life.  Thanks Dad.