Well we’ve had mothers this week in the Gallery, and today we celebrated fathers. Fathers Day in the UK today and I have spent it with my husband and son in a low key celebration of togetherness. My father is not with us, because he’s on a cruise, and my husbands father is in France!
My Dad and I have never really had a massively conventional relationship. As I explained in my Motherhood post my mother left our home when I was 6 months old. I have had little to do with her since. My father has been my major guiding parent through my formative years, my step mother having an input from when I was 6 years old. My father was 25 when he had me, and still 25 when he was left to fend for us both, he worked his ass off to build up his business, to care for me and provide for me. I have an unbreakable bond with my father which allows us to forgive a lot of each other. When we are together it’s like we are in our own little club of two, my husband and step mother say they have set up their own club but we know it’s just not as cool.
As with anyone who you love deeply my father has the ability to turn my stomach with fear, make me feel elated happy and frustrated beyond belief. He smokes which I detest, it fills me with a mix of fear and anger especially as we recently buried a very loved member of the family with lung cancer caused by smoking. I have had to let it go or I would drive myself crazy, he’s a grown up it’s his choice, it makes me sad that he’s shortening his time with me and with my son but that’s selfish really, I focus now on enjoying the time we have and planning my own life.
He’s an excellent father, one that can make me laugh forever in nearly any circumstance, and a person I can rely on in any circumstance. Everyday he sends me an email. Attached to it is a picture which he has taken with his phone, edited and put the word “Morning” in it. They are surreal and a true reflection of who he is. He’s quirky in so many ways from the drawings he and my son create to the interesting way he stacks his plates after doing the dishes. I really must find a picture of it, it’s something to behold. When I receive these emails everyday (or in bulk before he goes away) it tells me that he thinks of me everyday, that he cares for me just as much as I care for him, and that although he’s not perfect, or good at saying “I love you” he is the best parent I have had.
The, errrrrr, dish washer