Dad and I shared common interests. The outdoors, camping and even photography. He was also always building something, growing massive vegetable gardens, raising hens or we were off in the car to go fishing, building campfires and camping. He had a quick temper and had his issues with drinking. I can’t remember an evening he didn’t have a drink in his hand. I’m sure he thought he was never good enough, but that aside, you have the flawed man who raised me.
My first hunting experience was for rabbits. A summer evening in Alexandra. Warm, warm central Otago air as the sun was going down. The smell of long summer grasses drying after a long summer day. Dad with his 22 and me with my gun (a stick). I remember him just staring at me with a slight smile on his face. I don’t know what he was thinking. Pride? Fear? Insecurity?

He didn’t hide from me then, but as I got older he did. He hid from all of us. Like men do.

I think he knew I would leave, that I wouldn’t be his little boy forever. I don’t know what he felt about this, but I don’t like the way it makes me feel now. I felt our bond was still there somehow, but marginally. We never spoke until my first son was born.
I knew he was slipping long before that day we visited… When I arrived I could see it, the changes in skin color, weight loss, he was failing and it scared him. I only remember him being in fear, true fear, once or twice, but his recognition of the fact I knew he was scared was not something either of us could deal with. The strong man, my father I once knew was dying. A painful moment for both of us. But he held my son, I passed Brody to him, like a relay. The baton passed from one hand to another, one generation to another.
I remember him laughing “he’s a bright boy”.

The only real words he said that day. This was the last time I saw him.

But having boys of my own now, I know what he was thinking. The truth is I miss the old man. He always took me under his wing & taught me how to be self-sufficient in the outdoors and in life. I don’t feel like I truly returned the favor.

He would still smoke even when we told him not to. But he would still be my dad.

Happy Father’s Day