On Father's Day

My father has been gone for almost 19 years after dying of a heart attack while on the road from Pretoria to Kuruman, both in South Africa, doing what he loved most, delivering cars to a client. He was a man who could sell anything but cars were his passion. While he was so filled with passion for work, his boat, his dogs and his work (have I already mentioned his love for his work?), a few images come to mind when I think of him.

I remember the times my grandmother would visit and beg my Mom and Dad to play duets (Mom on the piano and Dad on the violin), the Christmas I got a spinning top as gift and Dad was playing with it, but the foot bounced and went into his pinkie (it screwed up his violin playing), him singing in my Mom's choir at Berea Methodist Church, standing on his shoulders in the pool, going body surfing with him at Orient and Nahoon beaches in East London, South Africa and learning how to water ski. The image that comes to mind most readily however is a photograph from grandmother took of us after church one Sunday.

My only regret is that I never knew the man who was my father. I want to follow in his footsteps. I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted to hear him say, "Well done. I'm proud of you". Those words never came from his mouth. While today is a bitter-sweet day for me, I'm thankful for the memories and the good times I had with him and thankful to be a father and to be able to tell my children how much I love them, how important they are to me, how proud I am of them, where they are in their lives, and are the inspiration that propels me to life a rich, full and happy life.

Happy Father's Day Dad wherever you are, and thanks to my children Sean, Dane and Shirley-Anne for giving me the opportunity to be a father and to learn first hand just how hard it can be at times, to learn what it means not only to say "I forgive you", but "I'm sorry, please forgive me." I love you all.