Dad

o Welcome
o Adjectives: dignified, handsome, mysterious, charismatic, sweet, kind, funny, gentlemanly, serious, courageous, intelligent, inspiring, bon-vivant and at times downright scary. These were just some of the adjectives sent to me in the past week from people sending their condolences. Put those altogether and you begin to get a glimpse of the magnitude of Dad’s charisma.
o Background: Born in Havana just after the war, childhood in Lima at the Canadian Embassy, educated at Worth Abbey and Durham University. Though it’s in the in the Himalayas in the 60’s that dad’s true persona was ultimately defined. This of course is where he met Mum in Kathmandu. Dad’s path through life was not a conventional one. He was a loving husband and an inspiring father. As kids He made Bella and I dream and gave us memories for life. From hot stone baths in the heights of Bhutan of Himalaya, looking for Tigers in the jungle on the backs of elephants, mackerel fishing in Torridon to simply being read the Hobbit by the fire in Scotland on windy nights. And in keeping with the true Aris father to son tradition the love of fly fishing whilst being totally hopeless at it. A gift I will be proud to pass on to his grandson Ben. Passionate in everything he leant himself to - books – photography - food - Tibet, Bhutan and the Himalayas. He dedicated the last years of his life to Michael’s legacy and ultimately his own too, the setting up of Tibetan and Himalayan studies at Wolfson College, Oxford.
o Theatrical and passionate: Sense of occasion:
- For Ben’s christening dad ordered me to go to the Haut Jura to slaughter a sheep, prepare it, wrap it in a blanket and bring it back to Baudin to feed the hoards. The memory is carved in my memory forever.
- Or the scattering of Evelyn ashes – he ordered a kilt from the queen’s tailor, beaver sporran, bag pipes and single malt whiskey tots on top of the mountain – he undertook a great personal and ultimately unsuccessful quest to try to unearth the McAris clan.
- His most public displays of eccentricity were when he wore his Thai green waist coat, tamashanter, McAris kilt and violin.
Music, art, food, colour and Maman were his loves and what he excelled at. His energy at times was overpowering and exhausting. He turned to us once and seeing our total exasperation said “what do you want? Normal Norman? Is that what you want, you want me to be Normal Norman.” Quite honestly there were times when normal Norman might have been a good option but actually looking back I say ‘no’. Dad was not normal Norman. He could never have been boring he simply had too much to give; he could fill any room with his presence. Normal Norman was his nemesis.
o His life: A very demanding and meticulous publisher. Last week someone commented that he was like a human magnet, drawing people from all over, extracting the best out of them. He loved to claim that he invented this person or that person. In some cases it’s true, his heart was on his sleeve and if he could help and guide someone he would do so all the way until they had attained whichever goal they set out to achieve together. Pushing everyone to the best of what they could achieve.
o Putney: Life in Parkfields Putney was anything but dull, throughout Bella’s and my childhood our eyes were opened to a rich seam of people. Our house was like a hostel, there was a steady flow of weary travellers from all over the world, beautiful au pairs who taught us all to dance the Lambada, writers and publishers, Buddhist lamas, Bhutanese royals, a future Nobel prize winner, even an Ex KGB officer. It was a world of excitement, colour and intrigue. Our house was never empty; Norman Norman didn’t live at 10 Parkfields.
o Michael: In my eyes there was always the before and after Michael dad. Losing a sibling is hard at best buy losing a twin is unfathomable. Dad always had deep reserves of energy but these were channelled. After Michael’s passing Dad once said that he now felt like a whole person. In truth, we lost a large part of him that day.
o End: He has travelled the world over always with mum. This last unique and tragic journey over the last year towards his ultimate death was accompanied every step of the way by his trusted commander, Maman, who did not desert him for a single moment, accompanying him, caring for him without a moments’ rest or complaint. Mum you were and always have been dad’s rock, his captain.
On the day of mum and dads wedding BM said “I give you daughter, don’t bring me back a pancake”. He’s left us all feeling a bit flat, but like a large, intricate, rich and colourful Buddhist sand mandala that is being dispersed once completed, we will be left with our wonderful eclectic memories that dad has given all of us.