Daughters and Fathers
Daughters and Fathers having done all the sorts of things you do as a young bloke you come to the idea that its time to sprog. Thinking on it now I can see that I was as about as ready as taking flight. I am not sure that I would have been any better given more years or even lot’s more years. I was partner up and we had a house so lets sprog now. At the time it all seemed the thing to do and it was.Weny J was the best little thing a young dad could have, the child of love, fast learning and showed patience and amazing ability to find little stones to post in to the grate of the kitchen drain and the pleasure derived from the filling of tea cups with water. We spent hours with the Lego, building doughnut making conveyer machines. The traditional dolls house was soon lost to the Sindy doll and art in the form of Play Dough fishes and paint and felt tip pens took on big time. School went down well in the early years until a day of tears a little time after entry to junior school but following an ‘assessment’, a bit scary at the time, but a problem sorted ‘something to do with left side, right side’ and then being re- accepted by her class mates and not feeling an oddball went on to do bett
er than well. My life with Weny J was quite short. At 16 years she was living weekdays with grandma attending the cookie college in the next town and in a flash in digs in London and gone. We sailed together for a bit making her first appearance at seven in the Easter regatta and ending in the Commodores Invitation Cup some years later and it must be said I had my best National result with Weny J in the front. On reflection! She is a carer, a missionary worker. If you have a broken wing she will be around fast to doctor you, feed you, sort you, make sure you’re ok and then, be gone. I feel regret that she’s left the nest when she did and relief I was not to be sorted daily. She is all controlling and intolerant of opposing views on any subject! But she is my dearest memory and I can’t help filling up when I think of the empty space she left in my life but I do have still my own record collation. Weny J tells of horrific tales of been tethered to the road trailer whilst mummy and daddy went sailing but forgets the ice creams that our sailing chums supplied! The surprise of been introduced to eggy bread following a girls club camping trip and her return from. I was lucky enough to be able to spend time following schools out and holidays to trip off to the park to romp the hills and feed the duck and fly the kite and rounder’s. It suited me well. Not sure about the cherubs but they went along with it and we
often had a car full to the top but they were all good cherubs. I have not seen Weny J for a couple of years now we communicate though Messenger, she is Wendy and I am I. As luck would have it there is no stress! She survived my fathering and has grown it to a big girl but will she partner and sprog? Will she ever return to home? Will I ever submit to being lead around the big shops? She, like myself finds working is too easy; get up go to work. Being a father, a daughter having to interact is harder than you need the excuse 12 hours in a car isn’t what I need is a bit lame - but good enough!
posted by essex in a shed @ 3:50 pm
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