I am finally getting to balance my feelings when it comes to my father. I lost my dad in 2015 and, life has never been the same. He succumbed to something called Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), a progressive muscle degenerative disease and something we all had never heard of.
It took years to find an actual diagnosis but as the days went by his condition deteriorated. He was wasting away in front of our very eyes.
You would think that we would have been prepared for his eventual demise. But, NO, we were still in shock and pained when it happened. The sadness lasted for years after we lost him. Thinking back, it just meant that I had a long time to think about the inevitable.
Thinking of my dad is never linear and more times than most nowadays, I laugh and smile when I think about him. It’s funny that I turn more into him as I grow older.
My old man didn’t spend a lot of time focused on the sad things and so in his memory let me share some experiences that I remember fondly.
One of the first memories that come to mind was in primary school when I was in class six or thereabout. My dad picked my brothers and me up from school, and we soon found ourselves on Mombasa Road. We were confused because that wasn’t our way home.
My dad told us that we were going to Mombasa, in the middle of the week with no notice. He hadn’t even notified the school, he called them on the way and made up some excuse. He said he felt that we all needed to have fun and let loose.
Then, a twelve-year-old me was so stressed about finishing my homework and being behind on school work. I wish I could smack some sense into the boy back then and tell him to relax. That was one beautiful holiday and one that I will never forget.
Who could forget how hilariously inappropriate my father was when it came to conversations at parties and events.
At a tender age, I knew that I needed to laugh quietly and pretend that I didn’t understand the jokes. Fathers are amazing at this, especially after a few pints.
One famous joke was that of dad explaining about his job experience in France and England. He gave details about looking for work there and instead of using the right term used the word, ‘soliciting for work’. Soliciting is the action or fact of accosting someone and offering one’s or someone else’s services as a prostitute.
I remember my mum cringing and giving him a deathly stare, my aunt Waithera’s eyes popping out of her sockets and I stifling with laughter. Does that remind you of your father?
My father loved parties and, he and his brother would always make up excuses to throw a celebration and roast nyama choma. They would mark everything including the end of the rainy season.
One time in my third year at university I got a call from my dad which tickled me. He said that he had been watching the news and saw that there was illicit alcohol that was killing people and he hoped that I wasn’t drinking the “ten bob alcohol.”
I was tickled because this was the closest dads’ get to saying that they are worried about us. I assured him that I was drinking Kebs-approved alcohol and that he should ‘send me M-Pesa’ for me to drink decent brands. A few minutes later I got an M-Pesa message and bought a full bottle of cheap vodka to celebrate my newfound wealth.
Then there was the way my dad laughed. My dad laughed from his belly and he always had a way of making everyone cheer up as a result. It was heart-warming to hear my aunt one day say that for a moment, she was confused when she heard me laughing because she almost thought she heard my father laughing. His laughter is a memory that I cherish.
I’ve learned that the most beautiful memories aren’t grand or extraordinary, they’re the little things that tug your heart and make you smile even though it might not make sense to everyone else. But it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else but you.
Happy Father’s Day!
