In honour of dads everywhere but in particular, the ones that have made a positive impact on my life; there is another one (referred to in this news story) who was, to be quite honest, a bit of a waste of space in the dads’ day stakes (
and the husband day, and the person day, and the earth-dweller etc, etc you get the picture).
My own lovely dad could never really fathom the bad one referred to above and for Surrealo Son and Arty Daughter he filled the breach. Sixty is too young to lose someone as special and self-effacing as my dad and we all still miss him terribly. My dad and the Artist had a blossoming friendship borne out of the minute connections, the bits you love about someone that you find in another that make you love them. They were not alike but I could and can see a likeness.
The Artist has had many struggles over the past few years and so have we all. Brain Injury is not an easy thing to deal with, or even, if you pardon the pun, get your head around; not for the person with the injury nor for the people who love that person. we are all learning slowly to cope with it; trying to be more understanding; using our combined intellect (as small as that may be) to work in different ways, think laterally, accommodate.
For all the difficulties I would not have wanted different dads, neither for myself, nor for my children. If I got to choose a longer-living different dad I’d throw him back in your face; you can’t replace a short life full of memories. As for the Artist, well I suppose the real judge should be my children but I know that my family is a happy one and despite all the knock backs, we all love each other.
On Sunday we will be having high tea, as per the menu above.