Father and Daughter

Meet the dad

WARNING: If you are not used to me being mushy, I suggest you stop reading now.

I'm not so sure where to start with this.
I am truly blessed to have this man as my father. All my life, he has always been there for me, caring for me, supporting me, teaching me, and just plain loving me. I have nothing but love and respect for this man.

I was born to a rare gem. My father has always told me he loved me. I have known many people who have gone through life always wondering whether their father loved them. It is rare for a Somali man to outwardly profess his love for something, even his children. My father has no problem where other Somali men find embarassment. He even hugs me or holds my hand in public, very rare in our culture. He has never held a hand to me and I can remember only twice when he was truly disappointed with me.

One thing about him is that he doesn't get angry, he gets disappointed. I, personally, would have him yell at me a thousand times a day instead of an hour of his disappointment. Very recently, I felt what it would be like if my father cut me out of his life, and I can honestly say it was probably the worst day of my life. For that short period of time, I was numb. Instead of not feeling any pain, I was numb to everything else- I only felt pain. To have him there in body but not spirit was one of the worst things that could happen to me. In short, I took his love for granted, and paid for it dearly.

I remember sitting down on the floor with a colouring book I got of marine creatures at the museum. The sophisticated, colour coordinating number kind colouring books, not the big blob, one inch thick border so you don't get out of the lines type coloring books. Anyway, as I was colouring, he decided to come and sit down next to me and watch me colour. I handed him my red colour pencil and he began colouring the other page. I stopped doing what I was doing and watched him finish the page. I remember thinking "wow! That is the best colouring I have ever seen!"
My father has always been a big kid. His favourite cartoons are Tom and Jerry and the Looney Toons (old school versions). Even now, we can sit for hours watching Boomerang (you know, because cartoon network has gone down the drain and because boomerang is the channel for the old school cartoons). Just to see the large grin on his face is priceless.

If you know the colonel, you know he has a knack for storytelling. He seems to have had an adventurous life, what with zebras chasing him, outrunning baboons, herding goats, learning to fly before he can drive, negotiating with kidnappers, and painting lizards for fun etc. He has come from a line of brilliant military men (Royal Army...you know back in WWII and such) and has so far continued the legacy.

So now you know why I get really sad when I don't speak to him for more than two days, or why I have that sheepish grin when I see that it is his name flashing on my phone. Now you know why the song "Father and Daughter" means so much to me- I would start the song he would sing the "there has never been a father who loved his daughter more than I love you" part.

There are sperm donors and there are fathers and I have the best father I could ever dream of.

PS: I will master your signature one day!!!
I don't understand why but I can forge all sorts of signatures but my dad's has always been difficult for me to master.

Men of the Day: Fathers... true fathers.