Daddy's Girl

My father is one of my favourite people in the world. He is the standard I set for myself. How I know that a quiet soul should never be mistaken for an empty mind, that being powerful is not the same as being feared and that everyone is flawed but deserves the right to be accepted. I like to think I was born understanding him. Knowing he is funny and caring and generous if you just have the patience to see it.


My father is lazy mornings in the water bed when I was a baby. Days spent reading stories and getting groceries and eating cheerios (mostly me) while we cooked (mostly him). By all accounts I was bossy and demanding and always in his arms. I have memories of colouring books and games of checkers and walking across the road to visit him in the shop. Elaborate birthday cakes and handmade wooden toys and custom bedroom furniture and lying on the floor while he cut my toenails. He is quiet in the chaos, time with my father like the stillness in the eye of the storm. He’s goodnight whisker rubs that replaced goodnight kisses and left me with tingling rosy cheeks from his five-o-clock shadow. He’s the smell of wheat and gasoline that will always make me feel safe. His is a pride in me that hides behind gruffness and awkward hugs but that shows every day, in every way, in all the ways he’s lived his life so that mine may be better.


When I got pregnant he was the family member I told first. I knew his calm would be reassuring. He opened his home to me and went out every day to get me Booster Juice because I was too nauseous to keep anything else down. When I didn’t know what to do he built a home up around me. Just another example of the way he’s spent a lifetime calmly helping me put the pieces of my world back together when the rug’s been pulled from beneath me. A father’s greatest trick. To say I’m lucky doesn’t begin to describe it.


I feel luckier still now that now that he’s a part of Gaia’s life. Her granddad is silly songs and sounds and faces when he thinks no one else is looking. He’s tirelessly bouncing her on his knee and cautiously knocking on our door when she’s been screaming for hours so he can help. He’s always there to help, has always been there, cannot imagine a time when he will not be there. I refuse to believe there will be a time when he will not be there.


Happy Father’s Day.