As weekends go, it was a ripper. A northern weekend – back up in the family homelands. Yes, it was a weekend all about family.
It commenced with my teaching family, on Friday eve. To Somerset I journeyed. It was the retirement function of a colleague who’d graced the classrooms of Cape Country – of Wynyard and Yolla. It was magic being amongst people I love and respect – those who have in the past enhanced my life, joined with those who continue to do so. And they so enhance the lives of those young people who are fortunate enough to come under their care on a daily basis.
Then there was Saturday and it was all about my mate, Little Ford Man. He was celebrating his second year on the planet and my, did he celebrate! Sundry Lovells. Newlings, Kleins, Maskells, and Gordons turned up for the event, as well as an assortment of friends old and new. We were there to share in the delight of Brynner Newling’s dinosaur party. Our Sheffield hostess, Ilsa, together with the weather gods conspired to produce the perfect spring day and the little people went for it. They threw themselves into that freedom permitted to their age – that of being able to spread their wings on amassed mini-vehicles, as well as to gorging themselves on jellybean dino-droppings and other carefully planned and constructed fare. The green dinosaur cake was a humdinger – and Victor the goat observed from a respectable distance and approved of all he surveyed.
Sunday dawned with, as befits Fathers Day, wonderful messages in print, picture and voice that made me feel special. My son caught three flathead to mark the day and my daughter shared images of the place she loves – her in-law’s bucolic Aberdeen haven.
And later that day I read Sam de Brito. One of his Age columns was a paean to the first Sunday in September. Recently I have accused him of being jaded and curmudgeonly, but in ‘The Sound of ‘Daddy’ he lovingly encapsulates all that fatherhood is about – the feeling that I had/have for my Katie and Rich – even if they’re twenty-five years or so older that his precious, adored little mite. My two – by the people they are, by what they’ve been through and come out the other side of, as well as because of the terrific souls they’ve chosen to partner them in life – make it so easy to give them my unconditional love.
And then there’s Tessa Tiger – so I get what Sam has all over again. Using his words, Tiges is ‘…such a kind, smart, funny, fierce, beautiful and brave little person.’ The best bit is that I’ll always be her Poppy. And, boy, did she enjoy the dinosaur party. She milked it for every ounce of adventuring. With her and her ‘cousin’, Little Ford Man, my life is complete.
Read Sam’s column attached and you will no doubt react as I did. He so gets it. His piece, like my weekend, is a ripper.
Oh! And did I mention it? The mighty Hawks won too.
Sam de Brito’s Fathers Day column = http://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/sam-de-brito-20140902-3erak.html