In Memory. My Dad. My Hero.
This is the hardest blog post I’ve ever had to write. I didn’t expect to write it now. Not today. Not this week. Not this month. Not even this year. My Dad survived so many incidents and accidents I thought he was invincible. His heart it appears decided otherwise.
If you know me personally, you will more than likely know that my Dad was everything to me. I spent so much time with him and for that I am entirely grateful. I have so so many memories – good and bad, (mostly good) that if I wrote down every little thing that reminded me of him, I could fill a book or three!
Although my Dad loved food, it is always Mum who cooked. That said, I have so many memories of sharing food with my Dad. It was often not the healthiest foods, but more what you’d class as occasional or treat foods.
My earliest memory is gingerbread men. Big, hard crunchy boxed gingerbread men from the bakers on the way to work. Dad would bite the head off first. I would work my way limb by limb up to the head.
Another memory is chocolate. My Dad always had chocolate somewhere – even now I’m sure we’ll find a box or two stashed away as we sort everything out. I’m so glad he’s recently tried my homemade chocolate and commented on it unprompted. I recall he said he was keeping the packaging. Oh my Dad! 😀
Fish and chips, kebabs, burgers, steak, crusty French stick, sticky toffee pudding, rhubarb crumble, aniseed balls, sugared almonds, mint imperials… are all things which instantly remind me of my Dad. There’s probably loads more if I sit and think about it, but it’s still early days.
I have had the pleasure of cooking food for my Dad on numerous occasions. There was always an abundance of food and generally three courses, if not four. Recently Dad has been eating healthier and frequently opting for Mums vegetarian options. It was easy to cook for Dad. Here’s a handful of foods we’ve shared regularly.
You know, my Dad did cook some things! Tomatoes! He loved tomatoes. He used to cook them with chunks off a block of something called ‘gravy salt’ stirring it in to get them all brown and seasoned then mopping them up with bread. Recently he’d taken to pickling beetroot. I remember Dad and me making (white bread) beetroot and cheddar sandwiches when I was younger and I guess my love of beetroot comes from there. This pickled beetroot of Dads is good! Real good. Plain and simple, but good. There’s still a big jar of it at Mums.
I know this post doesn’t nearly do you justice Dad, but I also know you didn’t think we should all spend so long using the computer! 😛 Thank you Dad for making me who I am. For sharing so many things with me. I love you Dad. Always.