DD’s dad

My dad was born this month. He was a cool type of guy, eccentric and hugely intelligent. He achieved so much in his life but made so many mistakes. Those were his mistakes. Mistakes for us to learn from, to then teach our children to not make.

As I grow older I find that I make my own achievements, my mistakes, not yet as big as his achievements and mistakes, but all mine. None similar to his. I know I don’t have his brilliance, which my older siblings do, but they too make their own achievements and mistakes.

His achievements give me courage. My siblings and his achievements I use to motivate and educate my child. My achievements compared to theirs are shallow, but some good enough to motivate my child. Ensure that she learns from the mistakes of her immediate and extended family.

My dad’s dead now, for a long time.

What I remember of him the most was that he was an incredibly kind and patient man. Honestly, he has never raised his voice or hand at me, that kind of patience in a father is incredible.

I never learnt from his mistakes, it scares me that with the whole world in the palm of her hand, my child will still make mistakes like all of us. My child however is blessed with the same intelligence of my father and my siblings. That’s good.

I used to think how much I am like my mother, not my dad. Now as I grow older, more and more, I am like my dad.

When I was fifteen, I was really small. My mother of all people would mock my size. So any bar I could hang on, I would do pull-ups on. By the time I was seventeen I reached 6 foot. My circle of friends increased, I hung out with some of the rugby players in college, I played for fun, my best friends in the first 15. My personality was such that I had friends everywhere; somewhere down the line I became a thug. It was because two of my friends had fathers who were actual tough guys, and they would love having me around, for they sensed that recklessness in me, appreciated it.

This worried my father, and he was scared for me. So he thought it best that he sends me abroad. This was the biggest mistake he made, and I.

He’s gone now. I miss him everyday, very much like that first love you still think of occasionally.

No. I think of my dad everyday. I wish we had more time and I wished he didn’t let me go; maybe I should have been not so reckless and he would have let me stay.

So it’s my dad’s birthday in March and I am proud for him. Wherever he is I hope he knows that I miss him very much. I honestly hope I have learnt from his achievements and mistakes to ensure that maybe just maybe my child will not miss me as much.

Happy Birthday Dad, I love you, I miss you. I wish I could have been a better son when you were alive, I wish we had been friends.

Your biggest gift to me I enjoy now. You were never afraid to lose everything. You had everything but yet nothing to lose. Material happiness, love for your family, all of it like you I will too leave behind when it’s my time. Like you I do what I want, sometimes at huge cost, but whenever I stare at the mirror in the morning, I look in confidence, I see you, a man who lived by his own rules, celebrated his achievements and embraced Valhalla where Vikings go to die. I too have nothing to lose.

It’s cold here now dad, coldest winter that England has had for sometime. Early morning when I am scraping ice off the car shivering in minus temperatures, I take courage by thinking of you. When the man in the tube bumps hard into me, the woman in the store does not look me in the eye, when I am now the invisible migrant, I always think of you, and I take courage. I am brave, I am your son.

Most of all, wherever you are now, I wish you the best and the blessings of the triple gem.

Happy Birthday!