My dad was never a ‘just’, he was an ‘everything’. In my young years he was my whole world. My hero. My big strong dad. Bright, handsome and funny. Very much like my son.
As I became an adult, I became aware of things dad had perhaps got a bit wrong and I was critical of him. In many ways I felt let down.
Over time though, I began to better understand why he did things the way he did. Nobody gets everything right all of the time, but I know everything my daddy did was because he believed it was best for my sister and I. Our happiness was the most important thing in the world to him. He would have done anything for us.
I miss him. I miss our weekly lunch dates. I miss his 4 second phone calls. I miss his dry sense of humour. I miss his quirks.
I miss his sometimes slightly odd style of dressing………this is the man who kept a safari suit in his wardrobe well into the 1980s. It was probably bad enough that he ever had one, never mind that he refused to get rid of it even though it would never have fitted him and if it had, he’d have looked like a Roger Moore James Bond throwback!
Daddy could be very dapper, always clean shaven and opting for smart suits, shiny shoes, and a splash of Fahrenheit aftershave. In later years, after he’d lost two wives prematurely (my mum at 36 years old and my stepmum at 48), he became something of a scruffbert when not in company. His visits to the Rugby Club always required smart trousers and usually a shirt and tie, but on quiet days he became quite the fan of leisurewear. The only slight issue with this was that my handsome daddy didn’t really know how to ‘do’ leisurewear. I remember popping into town one day to do a quick message in my lunch break and seeing dad. He was wearing cheap grey jogging bottoms with sandals and socks, gah! To top it off he had matched this fashion faux pas with a wax jacket and a blue and white striped woollen bobble hat, sitting high on his head! He somewhat resembled a homeless man. I wasn’t embarrassed, rather I was amused and happy to see him let go of his tendency of appearing slightly stuffy. He was going casual, not worrying about what people said, throwing off the shackles of middle class expectations. Wonderful.
Dad was always trying to live up to expectations. I don’t think he ever felt good enough. In reality he was way better than he ever realised. He was kind. He was intelligent. He was handsome. He was witty and also funny in a sometimes slightly nerdy way. He loved a silly joke and could be something of a wind up merchant.
My dad was pure class. I miss chatting to him. I miss his road trip expertise…….if you told him you were going down south for a wee trip, he’d insist on talking you through a full itinerary of ‘must sees’, weeks before your departure date. I miss summer Saturday adventures with my son, on weekends when my darling husband was working long shifts in a tough physical job to keep our bills paid. Trips to Rathlin Island, Belfast Zoo, Exploris Aquarium and seal sanctuary, and the Ulster American Folk Park to name just a few. I miss his daft jokes, dry wit and sarcasm.
I look back at precious memories captured in photos and videos on my phone…..the time he made me cut his hair during the Covid lockdown. The time I caught him buying new underpants because otherwise he’d ’have to wash the others!!’. The time I drove him home from hospital in his old convertible Saab and put the roof down to let him breathe in the fresh air, and how we roared with laughter at the sight in the rear view mirror of a pair of his pyjamas bottoms sailing up into the air from the bag in the back seat! There are so many memories, each one precious.
I miss you daddy but you’ll always be in our lives.
