I miss my Dad – as do most folks whose fathers are no longer with us. I miss sitting on the floor as a small child while he played patiently with me – pretending to drink tea at our tea parties, helping me dress my dolls, teaching me to ride first a trike than a bike.
He is single handedly responsible for my passion for riding. My career began by climbing up on his back and urging him to “gallop Daddy. Faster!” At 2, 3 and 4 I had no idea that he was exhausted from a hard day of working – often 10-12 or more hours tuning pianos all over town and beyond. He was my best playmate.
I miss falling asleep on his lap, knowing I was always safe.
I miss talking to him and telling him stories about my day, my life, my adventures and letting him experience new things through my eyes. Did I mention he was blind? It was a minor inconvenience to him most of the time. He’d been blind since early childhood so really didn’t know much that was different. His memory of things he had seen was prodigious. And he did know colours – at least the basic ones. Terms like “fushia” and “turquoise” meant nothing to him so I would edit my descriptions to say ‘red’ or ‘green’ instead.
As a grandfather to my son David he fulfilled many of the same roles – playmate, toy, comfy lap designed for a snooze.
Sadly, he never met my husband, Joel. He would have liked him. And, of course, he never met David’s wife Linnea and children Mattias and Isla. They would have liked him too. It’s too bad because he would have taught the children many things – like tolerance and patience and how to help others – just by being who he was.
Happy Father’s Day!