The anniversary of dad's death has become for me a day of striving to remember. I don't mean trying to remember things about him - that's easy. Rather I'm talking about remembering the details of the world he has come to represent for me. His sense of decency, for example. Yes, this was an innate part of his character, I guess, but there's a sense in which he was consciously reflecting an aspect of being what was generally considered a 'real gentleman'. A good fit for him, I suspect.
I'm not sure that dad's idea of what constituted the proper way to behave would have any traction in the Manchester of today. The past is quite definitely a different country and achingly far away.
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