Let me tell you about my dad. Everything he has ever told me is true (ish). Everything he told me to pay attention to was correct (most of the time): the birds, the sky, nature, other people, the world, the peacefulness and serenity of solitude; my own mind, silence; family.
My dad is probably the greatest person I’ve ever met. And it’s taken me almost 30 years to realise this. He’s kind-hearted. He’s funny. He’s stubborn. He’s generous. He gives people second chances (sometimes). He’s strong. He’s determined. He’s practical. He’s a bloody big force to be reckoned with. He’s a provider, a protector; he doesn’t suffer fools gladly.
He’s a soucre of information. He’s wise; not “clever” as such, but wise. He puts himself down sometimes but he’s more than capable of delivering, more than capable. He’s loving…in his own awkward way. He’s popular. He’s feared. He’s respected and he’s envied. And he’s mine. He’s MY Dad.
In the past, especially when I was younger, I couldn’t bring myself to love him as much as I do now. I didn’t understand why he reprimanded my brother and I; why he insisted he was right about everything. Why he didn’t trust us to make our own mistakes. Why he wanted to protect us from the world.
I didn’t understand why he did the things he did. I didn’t understand his behaviour; I couldn’t understand how he put our family through so much; and I didn’t realise why he let himself become involved in certain things.
But now I do. He did it because he loves us. He did it because his love is unconditional; and boy, he has a lot of love to give.
My dad is no Saint, oh no! But if there were a reward for sacrifice; a reward for loyalty, a reward for sticking by and protecting your family no matter what the consequences, then my dad would win. Hands down.
As I sat writing this a few day ago while on a plane to Darwin, it didn’t even occur to me that it would be Father’s Day in the UK in just over a week – June 21st 2015. How apparent then that I chose to pen a blog about him at this time; maybe it was a sign.
I’ve only been away from my dad for no longer than a few months. He’s also been away from me for several months but during those periods I’d seen him face to face several times. This time however, travelling Australia for almost a year, is different: Skype and Facetime, however brilliant they may be, are just not the same as being in the same vicinity as one of your parents or loved ones. It’s virtual, not physical. And it’s the longest time I won’t have seen my dad (or mum) for. Ever.
Even though I didn’t think I would, I miss him so much, every day. It’s only now that I’ve gone it totally and utterly alone, independently, solo, on the other side of the world, with no quick solution or get-out clause should something go wrong; no two-hour car journey if I needed help, that I have begun to appreciate everything he’s tried to teach me.
I’ve been cruel to my father in the past. I’ve berated him and I’ve refused to believe certain things he’s tried to teach me; not because I believed he was wrong, but because I didn’t want him to control me, control my life (what teenager does want their parents to control them?). I wanted him to let me live my life and make my own mistakes and figure things out for myself. And I have. I haven’t figured everything out (far from it), but I’m starting to; I have him to thank for that.
And I can just see his face now, as he reads this (if he reads this), an expression of knowing, that wise old smile forming across his coupon, that shrug of his shoulders as he mouths: “Amy, I told you so”.
Happy Father’s Day Dad! And happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there: cherish your father (or step-father, or grandfather) because you only get one.
Chasing Amy-Lou 