Daddy

My Father is tall and strong. His face is red from the sun, hard work and over-indulgence. Forces that have helped to sculpt and shape is body too. He is muscular, stocky. He a distinct bit not too pronounced layer of fat covering his entire body with a little extra settling around his back and stomach. This makes my father firm yet soft to touch; strong and comforting. His skull bone is thick and is covered with a layer of two-inch long medium brown hair. It is disheveled and thinning so his forehead appears larger than it is. He is also starting to thin at the crown. His eyes are steely green, almost grey, yet distinctly green. They are serious and open eyes. They are sincere. (People say I have my father’s eyes, I hope I do.) His nose tells much of his story. It is broader than mine from the many clashes he had during his football days, clashes both on and off the field. He has many burst capillaries branching out across it - more indicators of his 'indulgences'. His front two teeth are false - more reminders of his 'football' days. The rest of his teeth are still intact with a few metallic fillings scattered throughout his mouth for good measure. His lips are thin and almost look stern, like he is playing poker or concentrating. Yet somehow they appear soft. When he looks at me, he smiles, really smiles - lips teeth and eyes shine. He makes me believe that it's all because of me.

My Father is a disciplinarian but he never raises his voice and never raises his hand in anger. Not anymore. When he speaks, I am expected to listen, so I do. He is patient.

He is interested in teaching and finding out what I have learnt.

He is proud of me. He announces it to our guests. He will sit me on his knee when he is sitting, enjoying a beer, holding court in the backyard and rest his hand on  the small of my back, taking it away only if needing it to help his expression. He will return it to the very same spot as soon as he is done. He includes me in his conversation. He asks me what I think and lets me tell his friends.

He loves my mother and kisses her often. And he tells her. He helps her, compliments her. There is always love in their eyes when they speak to each other, look at each other. 

My Father shows me what it is to be a man, how to love like a man and I love him for that.

I love my father.