Dear Dad,
It’s been 14 months now, as much as I want you here, deep down I know that you and the family and friends you are with are definitely in a free and safer place! You undoubtedly (more than a year later this pandemic has for some countries got worse) would’ve been so upset to hear the latest news about India. Especially with all of the donations you have sent there to give people less privilege than yourself a better chance at life!
Dad, last week as lockdown slightly eased I was able to finally go home, I certainly can feel you there but I definitely missed your disapproval look and the shake of the head, as usual I said out loud what I should only be thinking!
For the first time I took Niam to your workshop. I don’t know why, yet I still expected you to come out, telling me to park outside your premises, you telling the boys to keep an eye on my car. Going inside still smelt of oil and all things cars that familiar smell it’s hard! Your overalls are still hanging there along with your coat. Your vice and workstation have been left untouched. Just how you left it expecting to return after your surgery.
I took pictures of the 2 massive starter motors . I tried lifting them ! Dad, you’re right they are heavy and huge!
I took Niam around, showing and allowing him to touch everything and anything! I showed him how I used to spin the pulleys on the alternators which would then spin the rotator. One of my favourite things to do when I was his age. Some would spin and some wouldn’t, getting greasy hands as I was on this little adventure of mine.
Niam kept asking me ‘where is Nana Ji?’. I just said you are working on a car. He went around your premises looking for you!
Looking back , I can’t believe I was Niam’s age roaming around and playing in your workshop, you never told us we weren’t allowed to be there. Instead we became your helpers. Not sure if ‘helpers’ is the right word
I bet you can’t guess what mum made for me!!!! My first meal after 4 long months!
Posho Alloo Boga (green beans and potato sabzi) AND it was delicious!!!!
You would’ve sat at the head of the table complaining that you’ve been eating this again and again. And again and again you’d me asking between each mouthful is this really your favourite!
And like clockwork, I’d be saying yes and no one is forcing you to eat it!
You’d reply with ‘but when your Mum makes it, it’s so tasty!’.
This conversation happens every-time mum makes my favourite boga. There was a time when mum made it just for me, you’d know I was popping over as this was always on the menu, but now that everyone enjoys it, it’s like a weekly thing now!
Dad, Mum did you! So we were talking about jobs I think, Mum me and the children. I said ‘I think Jay could become a pianist’.
Obviously Leia hears something else and cracks up! Mum at this point is saying nothing too, Jay wants to laugh but keeps his cool! So me being me, I decide to address the elephant in the room.
So I say to Leia ‘I said pianist not penis, why would I want Jay to become a penis?’.
Jay very calmy said ‘Nani, Mummy just said the word penis!’.
Yep I got it! The look and the shake of the head!
Dad, do you remember when we used to cook together. More like I’d be peeling and chopping. I used to be like ‘Dad you’re meant to help me’ and you’d reply with ‘I’m supervising!’.
Dad, do you remember our signature dish? It was chicken with slices of carrots and onions with a good helping of red wine!
Dad, as I was cooking you’d be saying ‘don’t cook the carrots too much’. It was because you like them ‘crunchy’. When I was pouring in the wine to make the gravy you’d be like ‘darling, what about us!’. You’d always let me have a small glass of wine while we cooked.
Dad, looking back I don’t actually remember sitting down to eat it. All I actually remember are the escalating number of bowls in the sink because we kept on tasting it!
What did we eat it with: rice, bread, roti or pitta? I seriously can’t remember! All I remember is the endless tasting and adding of this that and the other!
You love for food and experimenting with flavours meant that the last words would always come from you, ‘next time we will try adding …..’
Miss you Dad
X
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