Daddy's girl

As a little girl I was fortunate enough to have a fully present and participating dad. He was the dad that changed diapers, and played with his kids. he didnt just read stories to us, he spun tales for us that were all our own. I will always remember the exciting adventures of Fingers, the little boy whose fingers could grow and stretch to grasp items out of reach, oh the mischief he got into. He helped us build forts, he played marbles with us, hide and seek, croquet and endless monopoly. We went camping, and were taught how to make a fire, use an axe, paddle a canoe. He quizzed us on the names of the countries of the world and their capital cities, telling us of the larger world out there, giving us a thirst for adventure and travel. When I was still quite young he would take us on a drive to some part of the city that was not familiar and then say "ok, get us home!" Then he would drive the car wherever we said until we found our way home. This was one of my favourite games, and I'm sure it's why I rarely feel lost. I have always known I could find my way home if I needed to.

He made me feel secure and certain that he would always protect me. Walking down the street together one day, as we passed by the house with the scary dog, (you know the one in every childhood, the one on a short and incredibly thick chain? The one that barked at anyone within a few houses radius with such a menace that you felt chilled? The one called King, who it was rumoured had attacked someone once?), sensing my terror, dad reassured me that the dog was secure. When I questioned that and asked what if he broke that chain, he matter of factly told me he knew how to kill a wild animal with his bare hands and would do so if need be. He grew up on a farm in Africa, so that was plausible, and I believed him. 

All along the way, he taught me to think. Never was I able to get away with anything without having to come up with a reason why. He challenged my reasoning, questioned my logic and gently coached me into a big picture way of viewing every situation. The ever popular answer "just because" was unacceptable. Early on I realized that I was the one choosing the outcomes in my life because he made me reflect on and explain the actions that led to those outcomes. 

He never ever raised his voice, and yet we all had a healthy respect for him and a desire to make him proud. His disappointment was a much harder pill to swallow than his anger ever would have been.

As a young woman I worked with my dad and had the opportunity to develop a grown up relationship with him. We didn't always see eye to eye, but we knew how to work out our differing viewpoints and successfully ran several businesses together for nearly two decades. He taught me how to be responsible and self sustaining, by giving me responsibility and autonomy. When I was 18 he put me in charge of a small distributorship enterprise, including the finances. I quickly learned the value of turning a profit, if I were ever to extract a pay cheque. I also learned first hand the difference between being paid for my time, and being paid for my effort. We traveled together as a family and as business partners, always with an air of adventure about us. With my dad around, there was, and still is, always something to learn, to discover.

Now he is the Papa to my two children, and he takes this just as seriously as he did being my father. He still plays croquet and tells stories of the 60's to my music loving son. He has taken him on adventures and taught him how to fix things, how to work and how to learn. They too have played and worked together, in much the same fashion as we did. He even watches YTV with my daughter, which is no small sacrifice when you are in your 60's!

I can't imagine my life, and the lives of my children, without this man. 

For me, every day is Father's Day.