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.
frombrotherswithlove 