Lately I’ve been thinking about my dad quite alot. Not in a mopey, sad way, but actually remembering what he was like, and some of the things he did.
My dad died when I was 24, and 3 months pregnant. I had been living in the states for a few years on and off before that and my only regret is that I didn’t really know him as an adult.
I’ve been told that as a little boy my dad was always in trouble, he was always the one causing mischief and trying to get out of it. When I was little I would sit on the arm of his chair and sip his beer, while he told me stories of all the naughty things he did when he was little. He would also tell me stories about being in the army, it was something I really looked forward to.
My dad grew up with a huge chip on his shoulder, he had tourettes syndrome, and always thought people were laughing at him – in some cases they were, and even if they weren’t, they better not be looking over at him. When dating my mum he had one infamous phrase he’d always say to her, usually in pubs “Hold my glasses love” before marching off to punch whoever happened to be looking in his direction.
My dad was a scorpio, if you were his friend or family he was fiercely loyal, and would do anything for you, if you weren’t and you got on the wrong side of him, man would you face the wrath. If anyone gave me or my brother problems at school, he would drive around the neighbourhood with us until he saw them, then drive by really slowly and give the ‘punch into hand’ move whilst staring directly at them as we passed. You’d probably get locked up for that now, but hey it worked.
As a parent he was always the soft one, I could always manage to talk him round. I’m not sure if it was because I’m a girl or because I’m the youngest but we both knew that in the end I could pretty much get away with whatever.
I remember when I was about 11, our school had a trip to Manchester museum, I was so excited to see the huge whale skeleton hanging from the ceiling, that I’d heard about. It turned out I had an eye appointment on that day (that’s a whole nother blog entry) so I couldn’t go. I was so dissapointed. About a week later my dad took me to school, except he drove straight passed. “Dad, where are we going? You missed the school” ”Manchester museum, I thought you wanted to see the whale, love” At that time, on that day, it was huge. My dad had taken the day off work and I was missing school, and we were going to Manchester musuem – Fuck ‘em! I remember that day so much more than I would hae done on a boring old school trip.
When i joined the circus aged 17, it was my dad who came out to the audition with me, and him that flew to the states to make sure I settled in ok. Probably not the easiest thing for a parent to do. I’m always grateful for both my parents support on that.
My dad was clumsy: He was always banging his head on stuff and saying “Who bloody left that there” My mum got him a mobile phone, which he couldn’t use, but constantly dropped, resulting in it being held together by green electrical tape. He had OCD and was contstantly making paths in my messy bedroom “in case of a fire” and spent about 30 minutes locking the doors, and turning every single plug socket off in the house before bed. He had terrible road rage and if you cut him off, he would drive 2 inches from your bumper for the rest of the way. He was funny: Lying on his death bed he let out a huge fart and after an awkward moment of the nurse thinking ‘poor man, no dignity’ he uttered ”You can have that one love” He was loyal, kind, honest and endearing and he was pretty much my best mate.
I’m not mopey about it anymore. I’m grateful for the time I had with him and the things he taught me. He’s not here anymore and I have moved on with my life. People die. I get that, but sometimes, every now and again, I would REALLY, REALLY love to go for a pint with him.
That was quite beautiful. He sounds like a real character – but also very brave and determined. Living with those issues can’t have been easy (you mum must have quite a story or two as well).