My Dad. A boy himself once and now and inspiration to my own boys. Explainer of truths, teller of tales, he is Grandpa extraordinaire. My boys adore it when Grandpa comes to stay, his visits are full of games and stories all plucked from his seemingly limitless imagination.
These stories are echoes of the ones my sister and I heard every night as children. Sometimes it was the ‘alternative’ ending to a familiar fairy tale (No Dad! That’s not right! Shouting and laughing at the same time) or the stories of the Little Witch that would be produced at special times, a long bus ride when entertainment was required or a bed time after a hard day.
To this day the sound of my Dad’s voice soothes and calms me as he tells me the stories of How To Be A Grown Up. The stories of How Things Will Be, weaving a vision of a better future with his words. Healing heartache, making laughter, telling me, in grown up language of course, there there, it’s alright. The words I’ve heard all my life and know to be true when my Dad speaks them.
Today I gave my Dad a gift and said Happy Father’s Day, but I am grateful for him every day. And the thing I am the most grateful for is the absolute certainty I hold in my heart of who loves me. My Daddy does.
Emmalina and Her Unfeasibly Large Bonnet 
Lovely Emma – You are blessed to have such a wonderful dad – & he is blessed to have a daughter who appreciates & cares.
Thanks Margo, you sweetie pie. I am lucky to have such a great Dad and also to have lovely friends who leave nice comments to make me smile xxx
oh Emma, you made my eyes sting! What a tribute, photos and all! Your writing is straight from the heart, lovely and beautiful!|
This is beautiful. It brought tears to my eyes and I think you really captured how special daddy’s love is to a girl. Even a grown-up girl.
With these photograph comes memories of laughter, warmth and love. With the first one at the farm I can remember us all sitting in the hayloft and the smell sweet warm hay, chasing after the chickens and eating huge scones with lashings of butter and jam.
The one where you are sat on my knee reminds of summer days on numerous RAF stations, taking walks on country lanes and looking for bargins in the NAAFI!
Happy happy days (and dodgy hairstyles!)