Today is the 28th anniversary of my father’s death (July 14th) and as anniversaries often do, it caused me to reflect on the influence of my father – especially as I am a couple of years away from the age at which he died.
My Dad wasn’t perfect. A tradition I have faithfully carried on. He had a quick temper and could be stubborn. Traits that I dutifully learned as a young boy. But there are many qualities that I should have learned but was slow to grasp. He was a generous man: generous with his time, possessions and the little money he had. He was a man who took a keen interest in people’s lives and tried to help them as best he could.
Maarten, my Dad, was uneducated and this was largely due to the time in which he grew up – in the midst of economic depression, and later, war. But he was intelligent and astute. He saw through pomposity and bravado. On the other hand, he saw the best in people. When I might have been dismissive of someone, he would respond and tell me I didn’t understand the hardship and trials that this person had been through and which had, in turn, shaped their lives and attitudes.
He had that sense of responsibility that characterised many of his generation. Responsibility towards his family, his church, his customers and neighbours.
Also, he had a wicked sense of humour, liked a glass of wine or a cold beer on a blistering hot Aussie day, and loved his music – particularly Bach.
Looking back, I give thanks to God for having this dad as my father. He encouraged, at times bullied, me into making the most of my learning – one that he never had the opportunity to experience. He passed on beliefs and values for which I will be eternally grateful.
Twenty-eight years dead but still very much alive!