Filed under: Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents
Today would have been my Mum’s 85th birthday.
Eighty Five.
I would have flown in to see her. Probably, surprise her.
I did that a couple of times.
Once when I was living in Australia and once when I was in Singapore.
And on both occasions – when she went outside supposedly to help my best friend Paul bring something into her house, and when I hid behind a huge bouquet of birthday flowers – the surprise on her face was utterly adorable.
And because of those occasions, I know what would have happened if I surprised her today.
First she would have stopped dead in her tracks … trying to work out how I was in front of her when she thought I was on the other side of the planet.
Then she would have had a huge smile on her face as she walked towards me to give me a huge hug and a big kiss on the cheeks.
Finally she would tell me how happy and surprised she was, before saying she had to go and make up my bed immediately.
And even though it would be her special day, she would want the focus to be on me and we would have a little back-and-forth as I would insist I was there to celebrate her, not the other way round.
And I would win – not because she liked having a fuss being made of her, in fact she hated it – but because she knew I was happy when she let me make a fuss over her and me being happy made her happy too.
Just to be clear, her version of what ‘a fuss’ was, wasn’t a fuss at all.
I’m talking about having dinner together and talking and just enjoying each others company.
And while Mum would love it, I know she’d be thinking she was taking me away from other things I could be doing so I’d have to remind her I was there for her and we would laugh and hold hands and say how lovely it was to be together.
I would give anything to have that happen today.
Especially as this time, I would have Jill and Otis with me.
And that would make her think it was her best birthday ever.
Because she would get to watch Otis run and laugh around her little garden.
And get to hold his little hand while she went around telling him what all the flowers were.
And get to hear him say “thank you” after he’d wolfed down the pasta she would have lovingly made for him.
And while this all happened, I’d see her radiate with energy and love.
Filled with a spirit that only meeting your grandson for the first time can give.
And while she would desperately try to stop herself kissing Otis’ cheeks over and over again for fear of making him uncomfortable, every interaction would provide her with a joy she would not have felt for a very long time.
I wish this was how today played out.
I wish this was not just happening in my mind.
But it is and while I’d prefer the real thing, I am happy I can picture this in such detail.
It makes me still feel close to my beloved Mum.
The kindest, most generous and considerate person I’ve ever met.
And while I know she can not read this, a little part of me wishes she could.
Because I want her to know the love I have for her is as strong as it ever was.
And this is a small way of showing her that.
As will be the little thing I’ll be doing at work today in her honour.
Happy birthday my dearest Mum.
I miss you, love you and hope Dad is giving you an extra hug today.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, Culture, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Equality, Family, Happiness, Love, Mum & Dad, Otis
Following on from yesterday’s post, I want to talk about the dismay I feel about the Australian government asking for a referendum on whether gay marriage is acceptable.
What offends me even more than the fact this shouldn’t even be an issue is that when there are issues that should have input from the nation – from immigration to military intervention – the decisions are made without any level of consultation.
It makes absolutely no sense, unless the government think gay marriage is more dangerous than defending Australia’s shores.
Actually, they probably think it is.
One of the reasons this issue bothers me is that on top of everything else, my son Otis has an Australian passport.
OK, he also has a British and Canadian one … but should he wish to settle in Australia when he’s older, I want him to have all the rights heterosexuals have, which is why I hope, should he ever need reassurance, he see’s this message that I wrote about marriage equality a while back and knows his Mum and Dad love him and will always support him in his quest for happiness and fulfillment.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Daddyhood, Family, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents
So today will be the last post for a while.
Surprisingly, it is not because I’m going on holiday, it is because my beloved Otis needs a little operation and we’re going to have it done in Australia.
Just to be clear, it is a little operation but it still scares me to death.
Part of that is because I don’t want any child of 23 months to require a general anaesthetic.
Part of that is because I don’t want to see the worry and concern in my wonderful wife’s eyes.
Part of that is because the last time I was in a hospital, my beloved Mum died.
Part of that is because we just love him so so much.
And while I appreciate that compared to many, our situation is not very dramatic … it is a very concerning time for us right now, so wish us luck.
If things all go well [and they will, they will] then this blog will be back on December 5th but until then, I’d like to leave you with one of my favourite videos of my brilliant son.
I love it for so many reasons.
His enthusiasm.
His unadulterated joy.
His participation … both in [Chinese] words and actions.
The way he quickly adapts to the dance when he makes a mistake at around 55 seconds.
And then, at 1 minute 2 seconds, when he morphs into a dance that Bez from The Happy Mondays would be proud of before hearing the music start again [1 minute 12 seconds] and bopping his head to the beat.
Otis, you’re perfect to your Mummy and Daddy … never forget that.
Filed under: Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents
Oh Mum.
How I miss you.
I am in a better place than I was this time last year, but you are always in my thoughts.
I continually tell Jill how much I would have loved you to meet Otis.
He’s such a lovely little boy.
Cheeky but oh-so-sweet.
He can throw a temper tantrum in 0.3 milliseconds, but will always say “thank you” [in a weird Americanesque accent] the moment you do anything for him … from giving him a drink to opening the front door.
I think about what you’d say if you saw him.
How you’d look.
And I know the pride and joy on your face would be both for how wonderful your grandson is and how well you think I – your son – am doing with him.
Of course we both would know so much of it is down to Jill, but if I’m doing anything right [and if you read tomorrow’s post, you’ll realise that is questionable] it is down to the love and support I felt from you and Dad throughout my childhood.
The love and support I still feel, despite you both being gone.
And that’s why I’m wishing you a happy birthday … not just because I love you and I miss you, but because your presence is still with me and always will be, which is probably the best testimony I can give to you as a person and as a parent.
I am honoured that I was able to call you my Mum.
You were an amazing lady and a fabulous Mum in every possible way … even if you never thought you were and would be telling me to stop with all the compliments.
So Happy birthday Mum, tell Dad to give you an extra kiss from me. Love you. Rx
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Food, Jill, Otis, Parents
I’ve written previously about the privilege it is to see my son experience things for the very first time in his life.
His first word.
His first food.
His first crawl.
His first plane trip.
His first time in the sea.
I cannot put into words how magical and amazing it feels.
The only downside being it is a constant reminder he is growing up in the blink of an eye.
Before I was a Dad, I used to listen to parents say that about their children and think ..
“It takes 18 years for your kid to grow up. 18 years is a bloody long time. Get over it”
… but now I am a father, I totally get what they mean.
Every day something new happens.
A new word.
A new experience.
A new interaction.
And you both relish it and hate it because it means they’re growing up. Developing. Moving towards a time where they will no longer be reliant on you … a time where you will no longer be the most important people in their World.
The best thing about technology is I can capture these things in perfect clarity.
Not just so I can embarrass Otis when he’s older – though that is pretty good too – but so I can remember the feeling or love and wonder I have every time I am given the honour of witnessing my son grow up right in front of my eyes.
Which leads to the point of this post.
Recently we gave Otis his first taste of ice cream.
A product he could neither quite grasp in terms of taste or how to eat it.
But he liked it … or at least the concept of it.
I won’t say anymore – I’ll let you see it for yourself – though wouldn’t it be great if we were all this happy about such simple pleasures.
God, I love that kid so, so much.
Have a great weekend.