Dad

Dad’s birthday is coming up.

I’ve been thinking about you lately.

We haven’t talked much over the last few years. That’s never really bothered me. We’ve always had the sort of relationship where we know the other one is there.

I think I’ve just reached an age where I see you differently.

When I was a kid, I thought the things I’d remember were the obvious ones. The practical jokes. The stories. The music.

I still play Bob Marley. I still play the drums.

Then there’s the park bench.

You told me to jump because you’d catch me.

I hesitated.

You said, “Trust me.”

So I jumped.

You stepped aside.

I hit the ground.

You laughed and told me, “Don’t trust anyone. Not even your father.”

I cried.

I’ve told that story a few times over the years.

I don’t think about it the same way anymore. Not because I think you were trying to teach me something.

I think that’s just who you were.

When I look back now, what stands out isn’t one story.

It’s that you never really pretended to be anyone else.

Life was what it was.

Sometimes there was money. Sometimes there wasn’t. Sometimes you’d spend it. Sometimes you’d gamble.

We knew about it.

We always knew where we stood.

Looking back, I think I grew up secure.

Not because everything around us was.

Because my relationship with you was.

It’s only now, having children of my own, that I’ve started to appreciate what that gave me.

There are things my children don’t need to carry yet. There are things I’m still learning myself.

I imagine you had those things too. I just didn’t know about them.

Now I understand why.

They weren’t mine to carry.

It’s funny where you notice these things.

I notice it with my own kids.

I notice it at work too.

As an architectural designer, every project starts with understanding the ground. A survey or a geotechnical report doesn’t design the building. They just give you something secure to build from.

Looking back, I think that’s what you gave me.

Not the building.

I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.

I just wanted you to know that I see it now.

Happy birthday, Dad.