Happy father's day!!! That was last weekend and I hope you told that to your dad or someone you consider your dad, even if it is your mum. To those clueless friends who send me this text every year to show my dad, this is for you. To my mother who has also been my father, this is for you.
I would be lying if I say I met the whole of him. I would also be lying if I say his memoir would fit in a single article but its worth a shot. He comes up everytime my friends tell me that I have my mum's personality and not her looks. He comes up during this time of the year. He comes up when people tell me that I never talk about my dad. What better sign of healing than finally gathering the courage to talk about him?
He was tall, quite an introvert, sickly too. He was also a reader, very loving yet strict at the same time. He worked away from home so we could only see him on weekends. He always came back with presents and would make sure to ask us what we would wish to have the next weekend. I always tell my friends if he still were around I would have turned out totally different.
There is something that a father figure does to your character as a daughter in a house, as a family even. He would insist on switching of the television during dinner. I don't think I turned out bad (don't get me wrong) but I am pretty sure it would have been different. My sister would have been his favourite kid. My brother his mischievous kid and then me, the one caught in the middle. He was religious too, I would have prolly been a more staunch christian but that is a personal journey.
I am a happy soul, always laughing always looking for the sunlight, but truth is I miss him. I miss his presence. The way he would bang the table when angry. His face every morning when I went to ask for bread money. His laugh, his limp-like walk because the diabetes had weighed him down. I would also want to know how life would have turned out if he were here. Funny thing though on the day he died, I did not break down, I did not cry. I was mostly glad that my then friends were there for me. I started grieving maybe two years later. He died when I was eight, too young to comprehend death.
I am always looking for him, in the boys I date, in the male figures I look up to, in the decisions I make wondering if he would be okay with them. This year I would have bought him socks, yes socks! Because he kept loosing his. I have always wanted to find him, forgetting that he has always been here, watching, waiting , listening and every time people compare my looks to his it is a testament of his existence. I am his blood.
I am over it now(the grieving), such is life and yes you can send me Happy father's day messages every year. I will show them to my mum. I will tell her she has played both roles impeccably. I will also tell her I still have her personality and her voice , tell her that all is not lost. Nothing has been lost. I would probably name my first son David.
Long live the clan of the fatherless daughters and sons.Nothing was lost,nothing is lost, you are his blood.