In aid of Father’s Day I wanted to write a post which reflects the fondness that I have for my dad and to share some of the best things about him. He was and still is a brilliant dad and even though I probably shouldn’t say it, he was and always will be my favourite parent.
These days, our relationship is very different as we’re both adults but I still get to see those old fashioned cheeky dad moments when my daughter spends time with him. I always feel really humbled when I’m around him and all of the thoughts that I have about material things or some of my silly worries just disappear. These are some of the best memories that I have and those that I will treasure for a long time.
When I was small, I spent every opportunity I had sitting on my dad’s knee. I would just sit with my head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beating away, and waiting for him to speak. I loved the way that his voice sounded as I held my ear up close to him.
In the summer months, we had a very large paddling pool and quite often when my dad had finished work for the day, he would run and leap fully clothed into it.
My dad was an AA patrol for many years and I never tired of watching him flash his yellow beacons on his van. They weren’t the cool blue lights of an emergency services vehicle, but they seemed important all the same.
When my dad taught me to drive, he bought me a mini which he re-sprayed in the colours of my choice (yellow and black). On the days that I’d done well in my driving lessons with him, he would teach me how to do handbrake turns.
I remember him ironing just the front of the shirt and then wearing a jacket over the rest so that the interviewer couldn’t see the creases!
I believed when I was little that my dad was magic because he could switch the cat’s eyes in the road on and off.
I also believed that he drove his car with his eyes shut (he would shut the eye closest to me and see with the remaining eye). Yes, I was mighty gullible but when your dad is the bee’s knees you will believe just about anything.
We used to go camping every year to a site in Wales. The roads on it were private ones, so he would sit me on his knee and allow me to steer the car back to the tent, while he operated the pedals. One year, I got a little carried away and ran the side of the tent over, with my mum inside. I wasn’t very popular.
Whilst camping at the same site, my dad won approximately twenty stuffed toys out of those grabber machines you get in amusement arcades. My dad was so chuffed that he put all of the bears on the bonnet of his car and he took a picture of them.
My dad worked shifts for many years and when he was working evenings, we would tip the sofa up to find all of the change he’d dropped out of his pockets by accident and buy sweets with it (my mum was totally in on this one).
I’m lucky to have a great dad. Even though I’m not a dad myself (obviously not because I’m a mum) I want more than anything for my
daughter to be able to look back and have similar memories to these. She recently said to me that she has a happy childhood, it brought a grateful tear to my eye and made me realise that for all of those lousy days I have, there are far more good ones and I need to appreciate every moment.
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