Daddy Issues: 1984 Unread; A Metaphor for a Life Cut Short

After my father died unexpectedly at 53 on 7 February 1984 I found “1984” face down on the black metal mantlepiece in my parents’ bedroom, the eastern room, clearly unfinished.

I read it then as a sort of fullfillment of his wish to bring the book to consciousness.

I was as yet unaware of the burden of living out the unlived dream of the parent, even a trivial wish to finish a classic novel, cut off by death.

It is too late now, I have wasted decades living out his dreams.

Unlike his brothers, one of whom was a veterinary surgeon and the other a lawyer, he did not get a college degree and I believe it pained him all his life.

His schoolfriend from the posh private school he went to, became a doctor.

My mother is a brilliant woman; she was wasted as a nurse; she ‘should’ have been a doctor.

She’s WAY quicker than me — and I’m no slouch!

I have two fancy degrees from one nationally-renowned school and an MBA from the number one MBA school in the world according to The Economist and Business Week in 2002. It dropped back to tenth place in 2011.

“Wasted all those years… wondered at the fear I’ve had so long”