Ancestral Piety

One of the men who used to work with my father rang up yesterday to find out whether my mother was still alive- and so whether it was appropriate to send her a Christmas card. I kept him talking for a while because it was pleasant to be chatting to someone who was my father's contemporary and thought of him as John (and not as Mr Grist). "John was a good boss," he said, which was a nice thing to be hearing.