Mr Sportsman

Posted on by frombrotherswithlove

My Father was an athlete, disciplined and hardworking. He trained high jump and long jump disciplines. He was also a fast runner. All rounder really. Maybe he was on the way to be the decathlon athlete. I can only go by the accounts of others, he never talked about it, but one summers day all his hopes and aspirations came crashing to dust. The day started as usual, the training was in full swing when the shotput hit my father straight in the head. There was no time for him to react and he collapsed on the floor. The sporting career that could have been was no more. It took my father 2 years to recover with thankfully no permanent damage to his brain, just a polite word to say no more any extreme exertion. That must have been the time when he parked his skis in the corner as well. There are pictures of him in ski instructors jumper but I haven’t had the joy of ever seeing him skiing. He bought me skis, took me to the slopes and taught me by explaining how to lean, where to press, how to hold myself. He was there for me all the way but there was no point in asking him to ski with me, once his mind was made up, on anything really, that was it. Skiing is my absolute favorite sport with the feeling of loosing yourself in the wind and the speed racing down the white snowy mountain is just pure exhilaration.

Regardless of the doctors advice he was not to be deterred completely. He found solace in nature. The surrounding hills and mountains of the village were the magnet to his soul. We climbed all of them, some of them many times. Getting up in the early hours to have the breakfast half way up the mountain holds a certain beauty to it all. The sense of an achievement reaching the top is monumental feeling, every time. The head is clear, the heart is pure and the beauty of rocky mountains around us breathtaking. Regardless of the saying ‘it’s not the mountain that is mad, mad is the one climbing it’ being one with the nature is priceless. His energy and the love of freedom you feel high up in the clouds was contagious. We went for many walks with his grandchildren and passed the love to them. They do not yet appreciate it but they will one day I am sure.

Mr Intellectual

Posted on by frombrotherswithlove

My Father was an intelligent man. He went to University studying economics and he worked as computer programmer in steel factory. He was a disciplined man, going to bed at the same time, getting up at the same hour, his timekeeping was impeccable, he was very organized. It must have come from the years he spent in the mandatory army training. As a child I only remember him seeing in full army uniform once, when I unexpectedly walked into the front room very early one morning, it was still dark outside. It was a sight I will never forget, it scared me and at the same time I was in awe. He was not going to war, simply military exercises but I was only a little girl with fly away imagination. I waited for him to come home for two very long days, driving my mother crazy with constant questions. I wouldn’t let go of him when he did come back through the door. To my delight, and utmost respect for those who are, he has never been called up.

My Father was also the one that helped me with my homework, he had a patience of a saint. I loved Maths but my stumbling block was the conversion of meters into centimeters and so on. We spent hours together trying to get me to logically understand the lengths. He was a pragmatic person and incorporated the 100m run for example for me to remember, or the height of our own to compare. I did get it in the end all thanks to his perseverance and I have learnt from him never to give up trying. As was the story of chess playing. I cannot tell you how many times I cried when he beat me but I came back fighting. He would not let me win but the joy of actually beating him at chess fair and square was just immeasurable. My celebration was worthy of a World Cup win.

Father’s Daughter

Posted on by frombrotherswithlove

I am who I am because of my Father and I will always be grateful that this apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree, not far at all. I am proud to be my Father’s daughter ever since I realized how much I actually admire and respect him. We are so alike it is scary. We have the same sense of humour, the love of sport, hard work and we are as stubborn as each other. My Father has taught me to believe in myself and my dreams, never to forget where we come from and be proud of your achievements no matter how small. Yet even He could not have prepared me for the heartache of losing him.

It has been over 3 years since my Father very suddenly died and I’m still struggling to comprehend that I will not be able to give him a hug or climb another mountain or play chess with him ever again. Every time I think of him, every time I am being reminded of him, I feel a stab in my heart. I long to speak to him, to see his wonderful cheery face and blue eyes, I long to tell him how his grandchildren have grown and how happy we are with our success of climbing the 3 peaks in the summer. I miss him, I miss him with all of my being, so I will write about him to keep him alive for me and for my boys.

The Stars Have Aligned…

Posted on by frombrotherswithlove

Sunday at 8am in the morning my phone rang and my whole being shattered into tiny glass pieces, piercing deep into my soul. The time abruptly stopped, the air went eerily still and an incredulous pain engulfed my heart. My Father died. He is no more.

The tears came rolling down my cheeks and I couldn’t breathe. Why? How? No, that cannot be true. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there in his last moments to hold his hand, to tell him I loved him beyond life, I wasn’t there to say goodbye….I…

My Father will always be my Hero, the man I looked up to, the man I deeply loved and respected. He taught me everything I know to live my own life, to be happy and fulfilled. I may not have appreciated his ways enough when I was very young but I have passed us onto my sons nonetheless. I truly am my Father’s daughter. Because of him, I am who I am.

The stars have aligned that night and His soul has been guided to the afterlife.. We will meet again…