Some memories of dad

It has taken me a few days to process but I am now starting to remember lots of great memories of my father. I've been in Tucson the last few days, though I was with dad up until the end. I've been remembering the many times he came to visit me when I lived in the United States as well as the times we spent together the last five years in England, and, of course, experiences growing up. We always joked with him that when we were kids he was always in the garden - we had an enormous garden at Linkfield Lane in Redhill where he grew vast quantities of vegetables including asparagus and strawberries. I think there are many ways he and my mother helped shape our futures. Being born in Africa, when dad was working on the Volta project, made me interested in the developing world from a young age....and a series of holidays at cottages in various parts of the UK (Dorset, Devon, Cornwall, Wales and finally the Lake District and Low Longmire) sparked my interest in the British landscape and probably led to my career as a geographer. I didnt always appreciate being dragged up the fells, especially as a surly teenager, but I was really proud when he climbed his final Wainwright and completed the coast to coast walk and the Pennine Way.

Dad was a liberal father - he tolerated a wide range of unsuitable boyfriends and allowed several wild parties to be hosted at the house in Redhill! When I decided not to go to university right away he didnt say anything as I went off to live and work in London for a year. I think he eventually forgave me for turning down a place at Cambridge because he knew how happy I became as a geographer at UCL (where more suitable boyfriends/friends were plentiful and I got an excellent degree) and, of course, when I eventually trumped a BA at Cambridge by a professorship at Oxford! He treated us all very equally, I never was made to feel that being a girl would stop me from doing what I wanted, and I was the first to head out into the world when I decided to do a Masters in Canada at the University of Toronto in 1976. Dad visited me everywhere I lived in North America for the next 27 years - Toronto, Los Angeles, Boulder Colorado, Madison Wisconsin, State College Pennsylvania, and Tucson Arizona - and he was always up for an adventure. I remember sleeping in the desert around a campfire with him in Northern Mexico, hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park and down the Grand Canyon, and taking a particularly challenging trip into the Lacandon rainforest of Chiapas with him where we flew in on a very dodgy cessna, slept in hammocks to the sound of howler monkeys, and hiked through the rainforest to find remote meteorological stations with my friend Karen O'Brien. Of course, these trips were nothing compared to his travels elsewhere, inspired initially by my brother David's year long world trip. In retirement Dad travelled throughout Asia, with a small rucksack and his Lonely Planet visiting India, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Malaysia, China, and Vietnam and making many friends along the way. His skills at making friends are legendary - he even took over some of my friends over the years (such as Jet and Madeline) and that is a lesson for all of us to make that extra effort to be surrounded by people who care about you and you care for.

I especially remember his trips to Tucson where used to turn up in February when the grapefruit was ripe and sit in the sun outside our little guest house. I had been looking forward to him visiting me this year (despite the difficulties of getting travel insurance at 88) and its with wistfulness that I contemplate the grapefruits on the tree outside the kitchen here today. I'm really glad that dad lived such a long and happy life, and made new friends right up until his 89th year. I am so glad that I spent the last five years back in England, that dad moved to Oxford and I was able to cook him lots of Sunday lunches and take him to dinner at my college. We spent this recent Christmas together at Low Longmire Cottage along with Janet, Michael, and for New Year Mike's kids Sophie and Johnnie. It was very cold, but dad was out in the garden when he could be, and spent several afternoons gathering and chopping wood. He seemed pleased with the cottage remodelling and we were making plans for 'phase 2'. And we had a lot of laughs about his horrible orange jumper (stained, poorly darned, ill fitting) and general hoarding tendencies. He really loved the Lakes and we intend to scatter his ashes there.The pictures show dad, mike and jet at my inaugural lecture as Oxford professor of environmental science and lunch a few weeks ago in the new cottage dining room on Christmas Day 2008.

Diana Liverman Jan 2009