The Father of my childhood is different to the Father he is now.
We would hear his Station Wagon turning into our street and rush to have the table set while Mum finished preparing dinner, by 5pm every night.
- Now he prepares all the meals, chops things extra small, to accommodate his wife's weakened hands.
He used to wear his hand tailored suits everyday. When he wore his work overalls, he kept his shirt and tie on. Even when he mowed the lawns.
- Now he wears cardigans during the week, and t-shirts when he's at home.
With three daughters and a talkative wife, he never interrupted our conversations and we rarely included him in our girl talk.
- Now he answers the phone and records appointments on the calendar, we make sure we tell him everything.
He used to send us to the shops to buy his cartons of cigarettes.
- Now he does the grocery shopping and hasn't smoked in decades.
Some things will never change.
He still wakes up at half past five, every morning.
At 6am he starts tending to his garden. Nothing is ever wasted. He would be disappointed if he knew we sneak things into the rubbish.
He asks for nothing and shares everything he has. He offers the best of his produce to everyone else and takes what the birds have left for himself.
Mealtimes are 7am, 12pm and 6pm, but he'll wait hours if he knows your coming.
I have never heard him swear, burp or fart.
He makes his own wine, but I've never seen him drunk.
35 years have passed since he bought that station wagon and he still parks it under his bedroom window.
He's never mastered the English language, but he never fails to end a conversation with "tell me if you need something, I love you me my daughter."
Lessons from my Father
Just because a tailor spends his life working in a factory, doesn't mean he isn't a tailor.
Just because someone is quiet doesn't mean they're a drongo.
You don't have to speak the same language to show how much you love them.
I use #atozchallenge when sharing my favourite posts.
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