Look at this little cheeky man’s face!
I am shocking at remembering birthdays, like truly. I am awful at buying presents and always forget for even the closest people to me.
But my dad’s birthday is always one I remember, even if I don’t get a chance to do anything.
In the past, I have tried to do something for him, but he never really cares. We never did Christmas presents, even from when I was little (between him and me that is).
So one of the things you learn growing up is how different everyone’s history is and how it shapes them as people. So today it thought I would give a little insight into our relationship over the years.
Why do I call him father?
When I was little, I always called him Dad, but the only time I can think of any real change in me calling him father was because it just suits him better! He is 74 today, and it sometimes feels a bit weird to call him Dad.
Dare I say same for my mother (will be interesting got see if she reads this too) But she isn’t a spring chicken, and she used to hate being called Mother so of course it has stuck 😉
Was it a ‘typical’ relationship?
Well, not from the bog standard happy family viewpoint (that’s whole other debate). My parents divorced and rightly so, but my father is no saint. And paranoia is not a new thing for him.
Let’s just say he always has Paranoid, to a medical standard, that was my norm and I know how to deal with it.
Does it matter?
No. not really.
He is still my father, we have a relationship, even if it gets turned on its head and continues to do so. And even with all his many flaws, I love him truly.
So happy birthday Father, and here’s to the years to come!