Fathers Day

As I sit here today reading my Facebook and Twitter timelines, I am surprised by the number of people talking about their fathers.  Father’s day in the UK is a fairly recent phenomenon – the cynical part of me thinks it has more to do with the ‘Hallmark’ effect – shops trying to sell more cards, gifts and general tat by creating an additional day for us to get sucked into the trap of spending more money.  But there seems to be a genuine outpouring of love today for fathers and a lot of regret for those people whose fathers are no longer here.

But as I read the posts and tweets I find myself asking – what is the special bond with fathers?

In my later years, my relationship with my father was pretty dreadful.  I decided that he wasn’t a very nice man and we have not been in contact for around 20 years of my life.  He didn’t do anything awful, but I just found his priorities to be a bit skewed when it came to our relationship and it all came to head in my early twenties and we haven’t spoken since and I am perfectly at peace with this.  I only mention it to put some context to my thoughts.

But when I look back on my childhood I do have some genuinely happy memories of times with my father.  He taught me stuff by making me learn it for myself even though it drove me mad at the time – having to traipse upstairs to look things up in the atlases, encyclopaedias and dictionaries kept in a bookcase on the landing.  He took me to his work where I learned how offices and business worked and which stood me in really good stead when looking for work to support myself at college and beyond.  He taught me to ride bikes and horses and picked me up when I fell off them.  He spoilt me when my mother wasn’t looking and ensured I knew my boundaries when she was.

In essence he taught me to be the independent, tough minded, principled woman that I am today.

So to everyone out there – whether your fathers are still with you or not – be thankful for the lessons they have taught you and for making you the person you are.



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