Father’s day…

Yes, we have those in the suckheap too.

Not that I’ve had to worry about Father’s day for quite a few years.

My own dad’s been gone for the past 11 years. the husband gone for longer than that. So, no running around for me trying to get just the perfect Father’s day gift for any man. Only my poor kids have to come up with something worthwhile for dearest daddy.

That being said, I had a father once. He was a good man. a man that knew wrong from right. A man that never met a stranger. That got as much fun from kicking a stone while walking as he did from singing while gardening. a man that adored his wife and his two daughters. a man that spoilt us.

He was the one that woke us with coffee in the bed every morning. When I lived on my own and had nobody to wake me in the mornings, he was the one that would phone me. I spoke to him on the morning he died. Can remember that day as if it happened yesterday. Not a good day.

He embraced cell phone technology when it first hit our shores back in the day. Played with that phone, kept it loaded with airtime, would just phone whenever. I remember phoning him when I heard a nice tune on the radio, and he would go switch on what he needed to switch on just to listen to it with me. Now, there’s nobody to call. He was the one to ask anything – he knew a lot about a lot of things. I seem to have gotten that job now – not that I mind. But it’s huge shoes to fill. Thank heavens for Google!!

My dad was an old dad. Was in his forties when my sister and myself were born. Confirmed bachelor basically to his dying day, worked on his own buttons, made himself something to eat, just carried on with what needed doing. Another trait I got from him I think. If you have to beg people to help you, just stuff it and do it yourself. Don’t throw away anything you might be able to use. Remember your history – it’s where you came from, what made you the person you are today.

He never cursed. Never. The worst words I ever heard out of his mouth what shit. Usually accompanied by “Ag shit tog” Once, in my teenage years, I let drop a foul word. He was so incensed, he threw me with a piece of watermelon he was eating at the time. The one and only time I ever remember him losing his temper to such a degree. And I was a hellion! But he was always patient. Never got into a shouting match. If you wanted to shout, he would just go outside and become calm, and then you could have an actual conversation. Used to irritate my mom to no end – because he would just never fight, and minutes after you tired to start the fight, he would be outside, whistling a show tune 🙂

Showtunes. His favourite. He would listen to his old records, probably reliving memories of singing in the chorus when he was a younger man, singing along with Oklahoma and Showboat. And Glen Miller. Maybe where my love for old music came from. And digging in my father’s garage was like going back in history. He would have been 84 years old this year. And most of my old stuff comes from him.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of my dad. Usually something small that brings the memories to the front of my mind. But there’s always something – a flower blooming. Or the way earth falls from a truck, and I know he would have taken us to go and see it. Mentioned to us how this or that looked.

He cherished us. He loved us. Kept us safe. If not for what he instilled in me when I was a young girl, I don’t think I could have weathered life’s storms quite as well as I have been. I had that basis of his love and understanding to keep me strong. So I have not fallen into the world’s traps quite as often as I could have.  He made me believe in my moral code, made me able to differentiate right from wrong.

And I think, the best thing he taught me was to be able to be alone. That it’s not a bad thing to not need people, or even to want them around you all the time. He made me strong in the knowledge that as long as I can look myself in the mirror, I can face the world, and I can face it head on and fearless.

So Pappa. You’re not here anymore. You’re only living in my memories. But as long as you’re a part of those memories, you will never really die.

And now, a few of his favourite songs, chosen in homage to my Father on this Father’s day.

This one he would sing all the time. We would sing with while we were driving anywhere – the days before DVD players in cars!!

this one is the English version of the next one. Just to let you know where it comes from. I chose the choral version because that’s what my dad would have liked.

And this was a great surprise for me. Jim Reeves singing in Afrikaans!! He got some of the pronunciations wrong, but I know he had a bit of a love affair with SA back in the day, hence the song. And this is the song my dad sang with us.

Old man river – another best song.

And my favourite from that movie.

And now, the song that will forever make my dad come to life for me…

Many words I know – hope you enjoyed my trip down memory lane with me. I cried a few tears, and realised anew that my dad would have wanted better for me. And I need to make him proud and go get that better soonest instead of wallowing in the mire of self pity I seem to have fallen into.