I don’t know why it is, but father’s day especially reminds me of you. More than birthdays or even the anniversary of your passing. I always remember you on this Sunday in September, especially now.
I’m still writing, just so you know. I’m writing in a few more places now, even earning a bit of a living off it (as of this month actually). I’m doing some spots on a radio station too. Not the radio radio, but on digital radio, and they’ve asked me back regularly so that’s something pretty cool.
Still teaching. Yes I know you don’t like teachers, tough luck dad. I think I’m actually pretty good at it, and it’s making me happy, so I’m sticking with it. I’ve lost weight this year, I know you always thought I was too fat, so that’s good news.
Now let me tell you about the children.
The Lad starts school next year. He’s nearly 5. I know, school???!?! When did that happen? I swear I was changing nappies yesterday, watching him lift his head for the first time and talking gobbledy gook to him as he lolled about on the floor. Yet there he is. Walking, talking, counting and even reading a little bit. He’s 5 soon, and there’s school next year.
He’s still got your eyes. Bright blue. He’s got enough energy to power a small island nation coursing through his body most of the time. He gets moody, but I think that’s just a bit of the “Magee men” coming through, you and I are both guilty of sulking from time to time. But I’m proud of him. Just on Friday I took him out on his bike, training wheels off. He’s so keen to learn to do things. He’s life aim at the moment seems to be to count to 100, and he’s almost there. He sings and dances his way through life, and very rarely stops moving.
I love him to death.
The Lass is almost 3, and she is going to grow up to run something at least the size of this country. She has a motor mouth, and is very quick to enter into discussions, debates and arguments. She starts a lot of her sentences with “actually”, and is quick to point out when someone around her has made an error.
She does not pull punches this girl. If she’s cranky she’ll let you know, and may god have mercy on your soul, as there’s no chance of mercy from this little terror. I’m writing this as she’s telling fridge magnets where they ought to be. She’s not being tyrannical, just insistent. That probably sums up her assertive nature…
And as for me? I hope that my fathering is up to scratch. The kids have made me things for father’s day that I’ll put on my wall or on a shelf, and I’ll look at them in 20 years and wonder where the time went, I’m sure. Did I grow this fast? I can’t have, I swear childhood took ages, it dragged on and on while I was in it. I feel like if I blink right now my two babies will be adults.
When did you think I was grown up? Did that ever happen? Am I still a kid to you, if so what are my kids?
The Lad today said he wished I could have you back. It was such a sweet idea. Honestly I wish you could have just one day to see us, to see me being a dad. I don’t know if you’d agree with everything I do, I don’t know what you’d think of how I manage my own children – hell you might hate it – but I wish you had a chance to see it.
But maybe you do see it, and you mutter grumpily under your breath about what I do, but smile on the inside like you did when you were around.
Whatever the case, I hope I’d make you proud
Happy Father’s Day dad.