Hello, Father

One evening, when my fiance, brother-in-law and I were eating dinner and discussing our parents, something they said had struck me unexpectedly—'we only know our parents as parents, not as people.'

I must admit that in my case this could only be true for one of my parents, my Father. My Mother went from bearing the stereotypical 'Warden-esque' persona through my adolescent years to becoming my best friend through adulthood. I have had the pleasure of getting to know her beyond just her role as my Mother.

My Father, though, still remains a mystery to me.

Perhaps this is an overly dramatic statement and perhaps I actually do know my Father beyond just his role as 'Father' in my life—or perhaps it's something worth exploring whilst there is still time yet. So let me introduce you to my Father—the greatest man I know.

I suppose I would be remiss to not include the caveat that my family is not the 'lets-sit-around-and-talk-about-our-feelings-whilst-shedding-tears-or-pondering-the-meaning-of-life' type. My Father certainly isn't the type to entertain existential discussions or philosophical conundra and I am fairly certain he will speed-read this piece and send me an awkward emoji when forced to respond!

I often wonder what my Father was like as a teenager. I wonder if we would have been friends had we met then. I imagine not. My parents and my brother are all incredibly social individuals. They walk into a room and own it with their charisma. My Father certainly knows how to command a room. He is often the life of a party—with a remarkable talent for tasteful and witty humour that people are inevitably drawn to. We are very different in that regard—I would be more than happy to attend an event and remain completely unnoticed (except, of course, for remarks about fabulous fashion choices or makeup application). My Father, on the other hand, is naturally charming enough to draw a crowd without even trying. My brother is equally talented in that regard. Unfortunately I did not inherit such talents from either of my parents (cue eye-roll).

My grandparents adored my father. Beyond adoration, they also respected him. I think for all his impatience with their sometimes antiquated values and thinking, he remained the best son they could have asked for. I wonder if he was always so dependable though... It's difficult to imagine a man being consistently decisive, dependable and decent even in his youth. I am sure my Mother has more to add on my Father as a boyfriend or partner (but to be honest that is an awkward concept for me to contemplate and I'd rather be blissfully ignorant to that one). AWKWARD.

There is also a quiet determination about my Father that I have come to marvel at. He attended a University to become a Physics teacher and ultimately left during a period of political unrest. He went on to become a fire fighter. A role in which he worked his way up to eventually become the first black President of the South African Emergency Services. He has established himself within his field as a pioneer and expert and has garnered an enviable reputation amongst his colleagues based on his expertise and talent for up-skilling. I only dream of someday achieving the professional milestones he has—it truly is a remarkable achievement.

My Father is a natural leader. He is the person you call when you are in trouble and need a pair of the strongest shoulders to lean on or when you need unbiased advice. I remember my Father raising my brother and I with such liberality. He allowed us to grow up into exactly who we wanted to be. In fact, he encouraged free-thinking and the notion of challenging the status quo (of course I do not think his liberality extended to endorsing teen-pregnancy or high-school drop-outs, but for his time he was still exceptionally liberal).

I have mentioned previously that we aren't the warm and fuzzy type of family that would be depicted on an American sitcom like Modern Family. Notwithstanding that, my Father somehow managed to instill in us the confidence that his love for us was not conditional—I was never once afraid that if I made a mistake I'd lose his love. He might not say it often (unless forced to by my Mother) but my Father mastered the art of loving us unconditionally and somehow affirmed the knowledge that he would never give up on us. I wonder how he knew to do that...

When I think of my Father I am filled with pride and wonder. I imagine the strain he must have borne to be such an incredible provider in the early years of his career and even now. I wonder how he was able to give us exactly what we needed in abundance and to never let us know when he was stressed about finances or making ends meet.

I wonder where he learned how to be such a good person.

He is a fair and decent man—and only in my adulthood did I learn how rare those qualities are in human beings.

I look at all the qualities I admire most in my Father and I am able to identify them in my brother and I.

I subscribe to the notion that if we do one thing on this planet, we should, at the very least, leave people better than we found them.

My Father has made an indelible contribution to all our lives—especially mine. He is the silent supporter who I know is always in my corner. He is the man who I know will step in when he knows I need him. He is also grumpy and impatient and incredibly awkward when it comes to expressing emotion—but those are endearing traits nevertheless.

Perhaps I don't know my Father as a friend or a colleague or in any of his other roles—but I know his soul. He is kind and warm, generous and fair, strong and determined. He is the best father any person could have hoped to have had and I have been so tremendously blessed to have him as mine.