It's been a rough summer. In mid June I received the phone call that I had always dreaded. My dad had been feeling poorly for a few weeks and, after being admitted to hospital in Aberdeen, was diagnosed with a very rare and terminal illness. The doctors gave him 2 weeks, and Dad passed away on July 5th with his family by his side. He was 73 years old and had only retired from work 6 weeks before he was diagnosed.
|My dad and my son on Castle Hill at Auldearn, July 2008|
While growing up in the Northeast of Scotland my dad had encouraged my interest in Scottish history and regularly took me and my sister to local castles, battlefields and stone circles and taught us the history of these places. These childhood outings inspired a life long love of history and throughout my adult life my, despite living overseas, every time I was back in Scotland my dad and I continued to visit these places together.
The last thing I did with my dad before he took ill was a walk along the River Don at Alford Battlefield in late April. In the days following the funeral I walked several of the places we would visit together including Fyvie Castle and battlefield, the Braes of Gicht and the Hill of Dunnideer in the shadow of Bennachie. Goodbye Dad, you will be missed.
|Walter Morrison, 1940-2013|