It's all about dads here in Australia this weekend. Click here for another great article from Sam de Brito about his fears about being a new dad. I imagine he would be a great dad.
As a kid, I saw dad as being gentle but also a little intimidating. He told silly jokes that I just loved, he was the smartest man I knew (still is) and knew so many poems that it blew my thirsty-for-knowledge little brain. I credit him with my love of books - we each devour them - and my penchant for theatrics. I could never fit my arms all the way around the belly I used to bury my head into when we hugged, and he always had a huge handkerchief (which I used to proudly iron) for bloodied knees, runny noses and tears.
These days, when we hug my arms encircle a smaller chest and shoulders. I fondly watch as he reads himself into a gentle, tired old man's sleep. I yell so he can hear what I have to say, I listen to his sage advice which, despite an enormous age difference somehow makes complete sense. I roll my eyes at his terrible jokes, and dance with him at weddings as he tells me I should dance with mum a while, as he just doesn't have the energy for night-long dancing anymore. I berate him for eating bad foods, and he is careful not to call me a childhood nickname - Fatso (a wombat off A Country Practice) - so as not to offend. And all of this is bittersweet because we can never have our father forever.
love this post. xxx
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