It’s 9:41PM and Lea, Mara and I have just come home from a full day. It’s Boxing Day, so it was inevitable that we would find ourselves at a shopping mall looking for good deals on all kinds of things.
Today is also the 32nd anniversary of my father’s passing. Ironically, he died on Boxing Day 1978 – a day that he loved. He loved looking for deals on this date, loved shopping on this date, and (from what I heard) especially loved to score wrapping paper at cheap prices to use for the following Christmas.
I (and my brother) hate shopping. If it has nothing to do with a book, a CD or a film, then I want nothing to do with that particular shop. Things do change, and I think I am a little more tolerable towards shopping than I was , say, 10 years ago. But, it’s something that I don’t normally enjoy doing. And it makes me laugh knowing that my father loved shopping. It makes me wonder if there were other things that we didn’t have in common.
For the last three years that I have been blogging, I have been putting up pieces from a short story I wrote in 2007 entitled Answers where I had finally written down all of the conflicted feelings and sadness that I feel around my Father. Till about 5 minutes ago, I thought I was going to put another portion from that story.
Instead, at the final hour, I have decided that I won’t.
I don’t remember my father, but I miss him. I know that the person that I am now would perhaps not be if my father had been in my life longer than those 2 years and 4 months. But, I think this year the best tribute that I can give to him is the knowing that perhaps I am getting to know him through becoming a father of my own. Through watching my daughter grow up, and being there for her 100%, and interacting with her – in some way, I am finally inherently knowing who my father was in some way.
And for that, I am eternally grateful.