Thursday, April 17, 2008

Dad

...and here's one about my Dad, sadly gone (but not forgotten!). I think I'm a pretty good mix of my Mum and my Dad...

My Dad's name was John. He was a great guy, although I didn't really appreciate that for most of my life, maybe my whole life. People say that being a parent is the most satisfying or fulfilling thing they've done, and maybe that's so. But for me, it's the most frustrating thing I've ever done. I'm used to dealing with computers. You tell them what to do and they do it. If they do something different or wrong, it isn't the computers fault, it's mine, because I programmed it wrongly. Kids are different. You tell them what you want them to do and they go and do something completely different, or not not at all. If a kid were something you got from Toys R Us, you'd go and get your money back because it doesn't work properly.

So, my Dad was, I think, and in retrospect, a good guy. A very good guy. We all (or mostly anyway) think that about our father, but I really think he was. I remember his patience, which had to be stretched pretty thin dealing with four kids. I remember how he'd turn red before he'd lose his patience, but not so often that it's the main thing I remember. I remember he had a quiet way about him, a gentle way, that drew people to him, made people comfortable and open around him. I remember he smiled a lot. He had a funny sense of humor that I may have inherited, and many of his so called 'Scottish Jokes' (read: Silly) live on in me.

Jazz was a big part of my Dad's life, of who he was. Creativity, actually, was really what he was about. He had a creative side to him, that had long ago been subsumed by the need to take care of his family, but in his later years he began to exercise his creativity again, through taking an Art degree through the Open University (like todays online Courses), through pottery, through painting and drawing, and just being interested in the world around him.

Years later, when I became more aware of the world around me, not just as somewhere to live, but as somewhere to appreciate at many levels, I came upon the poem 'If' by Rudyard Kipling. Maybe it was my Mum or maybe my Dad who first showed that to me, but years later, after his death, it spoke to me as a Father to his Son. The qualities that he tried, by example, to show to me, are all there, and when I read that poem it makes me think of him.

So now I have two kids who I try to parent, and Adam has learned 'If', and he doesn't appreciate it either. And I play both kids 'Peter and the Wolf' by Prokofiev, and they don't appreciate that. And I listen to old Jazz tunes, and try to be patient, and do my best to guide and educate and encourage the kids to be open, and generous, and thoughtful, and loving, and free of hate, and honest - and they don't appreciate any of it, just as I never appreciated my Father. But maybe one day, they will, I hope, as I appreciate my Father now, and as I carry him with me, every day, to try and be as good a man as he was.


No comments: