Can I talk about something sad?

[azzam]

?

[Aliya]

Absolutely, go for it xx

[Mabel]

Sure you can. Is everything okay?

[azzam]

Maybe later

My Dad died last week.
I have his drumsticks with me now, and I can still remember how he taught me to hold them. I spoke of him in the past tense for the first time this morning. Sometimes I am ok and sometimes it sneaks up on me when I least expect it. He loved bagpipes, jazz and the Goon Show. He made me want to be a good girl without ever saying a word.

Can you tell me nice stories about your Dads please?

[Mabel]

Oh, Azzam. I'm so sorry.

My Dad? I'll give it some thought.

[slinky]

So very sorry, Azzam. It's awful to lose a parent no matter how old you are. I'll think of some good Dad stories for you & post later. But, in the mean time, my Dad died in 2001 and I can say, while it took awhile, I am now usually happy when something reminds me of him rather than sad for the loss - hope that makes sense xxx

Edit: One thing about him is he was the only person in the world who could make me laugh so hard I would literally be crying & each time it was about things that no one else would necessarily see the humor in much less laugh that hard! I also once walked into the kitchen to find him at the table laughing with tears in his eyes at a Reader's Digest thing - I think it was real life things people wrote on insurance claims when they had automobile accidents. Man, he did like to laugh!

[baloo]

I'm so sorry Azzam. My thoughts go out to you.

[canuck]

so sorry azzam. know how you feel, not my dad but my brother, as slink says it will never be quite right, but one day remembering them will be a happier thing do

[Aliya]

Big hug from me, I know what it is like. You will go through being OK and a cot case the next moment. I think grief is like waves, they crash against you and then recede sometimes big sometimes small. I fought against the fact he had died but once I accepted it and just remembered the lovely man he was and that he was in a good place away from all that pain and suffering it all made more sense.

I remember my dad teaching me to trout fish, just the feeling of him being beside me, his hand over mine on the fishing rod, helping me cast is one of my better memories. Oh and he always bailed me out financially. Although not as much as Mum did bless her

Tell us a story about your Dad Azzam.

[Fuzz]

Azzam, my thoughts and prayers are with you. *HUGS*.

Now let me tell you about my Dad -- he's an acutely shy, stubborn and very proud man. The whole family struggled financially when I grew up and we didn't even have any colour telly in the house, because my Dad preferred to save all his money for the children's education - he wanted all of his children, all eight of them, to at least graduate from High School. Flash forward, seven out of the eight have university degrees with some even finished postgraduate courses.

I used to wish I had a different Dad, somebody younger, or hipper, somebody who could have driven me and fetched me from school. I wished I had a Dad who would show emotions, regardless of whether his children achieved or not. In my late teenager years and my uni years, I even harboured some anger and resentment towards him. I didn't like the way he smoked in the house, the way he ate, and trivial things like that.

My Dad had a stroke about eight years ago ... he lost the use of his right hand, and he can't write properly nor walk around anymore. He was crushed - he couldn't even hold on to his ego and pride.

Since then, I have learned to appreciate my Dad more.

The one thing that stayed in my mind was the fact that my Dad cried when I bumped my head on the desk when I was a student in Adelaide in the early 90's. When I called home to Indonesia and told my parents that I bumped my forehead and bled a bit in the middle of the night. Nothing serious at all but my Mum told me that Dad cried when he heard it. I have also learned to appreciate Dad more by missing his fine calligraphy - he used to love putting our names on our school books - beautifully written one by one. He can't even write anymore.

I also remember one incident around Bugis when I still worked in Singapore - I was walking from my old digs in Sophia Court towards City Hall. I suddenly heard somebody whistling a tunes in a trilling fashion. In our family, only my Dad who could trill-whistle like that ... he lost that ability when he had a stroke and I had to fight back tears as I walked because I missed my Dad - with all his faults and all.

[azzam]

I can't talk or write about him much yet, A. There seems to be too much to say.

I'm enjoying your stroies though, thank you.

[Possum]

Az, I am so so sorry x If you need ANYTHING I'm there

[Fyn]

I am so sorry Azzam. Thoughts and prayers for you and your family. Big hugs.

[Scrummy Mummy]

So sorry to hear that, Az.

Things I remember about my dad:

(1) Him coming home unexpectedly when he was working away when I was about 4. The feeling of joy when I opened the door and there he was.

(2) Always being available for DIY projects, though quite a few times he'd balls it up e.g. slicing through the dining room carpet.

(3) Him going out to buy sausages when I got my A-level results, just so he could boast to the butcher about me.

(4) How pleased he was at FINALLY becoming a Grandad, and how completely both my parents have welcomed our son (when a lot of people of their generation might have been a bit funny about the fact that he's adopted).

My thoughts are with you.

SM xx

[Aliya]

When I was little I remember standing in the garden with my little bro pointing at a plane and saying "Daddy is in there". The reason for this was that he was always on the road in his faithful Morris Minor (he had to sell the flash Mark II Zepher when Mum and Dad bought the house - house was $3k and the car sold for $1k lol). But I never realised he was in a car, too much TV as a kid and I was sure he was in a plane. My little bro always used to believe me in those days toooo

[Mabel]

That was lovely, Fuzz.

My Dad...I can't really think of any stories to share, but whenever I think of my Dad I think of stubbies (shorts), rubber thongs, Slim Dusty and 2HD radio station. Summer afternoons and the smell of fresh cut grass, lemon cordial, cheese and tomato sandwiches, KB beer cans, shiftworker naps on the lounge, the K-tel bottle cutter Mum bought for him for Christmas one year and the resulting mass of brown beerbottle vases, apple-cucumbers and strawberries fresh from the garden, being doubled on his motorbike, cricket on telly, rugby league on the radio, 6.00 news and no talking at meal times, Winfield Reds and the form guide in his pockets, rissoles and cremated chops and overboiled vegies. Him working hard, tirelessly and doing anything he could to help any friend or family member who needed it.

[FurBaby]

i'm so sorry Azzam. i'm definitely a Daddy's girl, and we have had a few close shaves with Dad's health over the years, so can't even begin to imagine what you're going thru. my thoughts go out to you ...

my Dad and i made up a 'secret handshake' when i was a little girl. last year, i went thru a rather bad personal crisis and decided to take some time off to visit friends overseas. as i was leaving for the airport, Dad gave me a hug and then stuck his hand out - we still remembered all the secret moves! somehow that 'handshake' was even better than a hundred hugs ...

[azzam]

Aren't Dads lovely?

[Fresh Mint]

Just noticed this, Azzam

Big hug from me.

xxx

[Queenie]

Chin up, Azzam.

[sundaymorningstaple]

My thoughts are will you. I almost lost my Dad last April and had to fly home on 12 hrs notice. He pulled through okay eventually but a 3 day ended up taking 3 weeks to overcome. It depressed him so much he has decided not to do the op for his lung cancer. Did the Radiation treatment only. With my mom 81 & dad turning 83 I really worry that I'm going to get that call some day soon. It will be rough I'm sure.

Take care and like a number of others here, I've ears to listen if you ever need to use them.

sms

[Morrolan]

i'm very sorry, Azzam, our thoughts are with you...

[Fresh Mint]

The thing I remember most about my dad was how funny he was. Friends of mine had strict fathers, or wise fathers, wealthy fathers, or driven fathers ... we had the comedian.

Four years after his death, I know he left the best legacy of all.

[Spike]

Interesting that your dad was a drummer. I always wanted to be a drummer but my parents wouldn't allow me a drum kit (too noisy for the neighbours). As for his liking of the Goon Show, my avatar says it all. He sounds like someone I would love to have met.

I never really had a close relationship with my dad, so I can understand how you cherish the memory of yours, having had a close bond. I was devastated when my mum died and it was a long time before I could talk about her with a smile instead of a tear. It will take a while for you to get to the smile stage when you talk about your dad, but I hope it will come soon for you. [big kiss smilie]

[azzam]

My Dad was the comedian too. A gentle, chortling comedian - no belly laughs. Almost everyone who has spoken about him to me remembers some quirky little joke he told with a small grin on his face. HoD and Spike's humour remind me of him.
My sister's favourite at the moment is about when she had dandruff and wondered if she should be washing her hair with two lots of shampoo. And he said yes, because he always rinses his paintbrushes twice. So now she can't wash her hair without thinking of him.

He could do all the Goon Show voices, Spike. And he played the drums in a highland pipe band. I was so proud of him in his kilt when I was little girl. But at the start of every march they would hold their drumsticks horizontally in front of their faces and my friends used to say he was wiping his nose on them...those are the drumsticks I have now.

See, I can smile. Because I loved my Dad, we were good friends. In a rather dysfunctional family, he was the one who trusted me and always believed in me. It's a long story, but people in my life wanted me to believe the world was a bad place full of evil people - but I knew even as a child it couldn't be - 'cos look at my Dad. That's his legacy to me. A different kind of faith.
And the good thing is, I told him. He knew how important he was to me growing up - I made sure he knew it years ago. Now he's gone and it's not ok, but it's about as ok as it can be for the time being. There was no unfinished business between us and I am so grateful for that right now.
Thank you so much for your thoughts and stories. You are lovely lovely people. Friday was one of the not so good days, and I borrowed your Dads for a while to help me feel better.