THE IMPERFECT PERFECT DAD.

Finally, its Father’s day. 

Cheers to all Father’s whether he’s here or not.

This writing is special; my cousin Aderonke penned this down (yes o! writing runs in the family). She’s actually strong. It’s heartbreaking and humbling to watch life ebb away.

Let me leave you to enjoy this piece; don’t forget to drop a word of encouragement.

Little did Bolanle know what was going on when she called to ask me if I could write about my Dad ahead of Father’s Day. 

She made me realize two things; foremost, I had to prepare myself ahead of time and secondly, I have a chance to appreciate a wonderful man, whom I call Baba Rere. 

It would be too generic to describe my Dad like the usual norm of positive adjectives. So, I am going to write about him in a different manner.

I miss you daddy! Until now, I didn’t know how much your mannerism, jokes and behavior have been the constant source of joy in my life. 

I can’t remember the last time I smiled from my heart. I remember a time when we had one of our “family meetings” and I jokingly said you missed your calling as a comedian; you would have been a billionaire by now. 

   

That’s how much you have brought happiness to your family.

Let me give you a picture of what I’m talking about. 

Due to the fact that PHCN deals with us terribly, we usually sit down outside in the compound so we can have a bit of fresh air before we retire for the night, we sit and gist about our day.

Daddy usually tells us of his past. I remember this particular one; he was telling us of when he was in Germany and he was to transport a corpse from one particular place to another; as he was transporting the body, he noticed it moved. 

He was so scared, all he did was to shout his mother's name and ran with his ‘two left feet’ (as he described it). To cut the long story short, he never returned to

the job. We laughed so hard that night.

It's not just d story that made us laugh but the manner in which he said it. 

Most people who have had the opportunity to know you always want to know you better. 

Sometimes, I am amazed by this fact (everyone who meets you thinks you are so cool). You are in no way perfect but you are my imperfect perfect Dad.

Our journey has been a long one, and I wouldn’t have asked for it in any other way. You are indeed a father, a friend, a companion, a teacher. 

My by-the-book Father, how would I have come this far without your tutelage? 

Chai! You do not take nonsense. In that, we are too alike (maybe that’s why we butt heads so much).  There is nothing we cannot say to you, how can there be? 

Each day, when we wake up and before we go to bed you want know what is going on with us; if there is anything we need, or if there is anything you can assist us with. 

Most people actually believed we were spoiled, little did they know you didn’t spare the rod.

As I write this with tears in my heart and its runs down my eyes, as I reminisce about the memories we share, I must say I admire your strength. 

Your strength has been what has kept us all going, hence, you are fondly called Strong Man. You have never let anything bring you down and this wouldn’t either.   

Even in your pain and distress, you find a way to think of everyone. I see you fight each day with the will to survive this cancer. 

I know you fight each day because of us. It has been a year since we started this struggle and we wouldn’t let it bring us down. 

As I look at you every day, I wish I can take this burden from you. Sitting in this hospital room and watching you has been the most painful thing I have ever had to go through in my life, knowing I have no control over this.

It’s only a matter of time; we would beat this like we have always done. As its father’s day, I celebrate you, Baba rere! Love always, Ronke.