Daddy

Happy 80th birthday Daddy.

Where do we start? When did it begin?

The day I was born I suppose.

My childhood memories are not as clear as Nicola and Julia’s but your physical presence is. I can literally close my eyes and imagine you right there.

Tall and well built, olive skin, green eyes, glasses, a full head of hair combed to the side. You are wearing your work clothes a short sleeved shirt, trousers, woollen socks and comfortable shoes. A hankie in your trouser pocket always. A big noisy blow of the nose, a side to side swipe and the hankie (always creased) stuffed back into the pocket. A briefcase.

Long legs, broad hands. Chunky feet. Out on the boat, hydrosliding. Holding the ski rope hands in lap to keep a perfect balance on the board as you hit those waves, up and down. Wet hair in the wind, free as a bird.

A thumbs up, never a thumbs down, faster. I’ll have a go on the mono you say.

Ready!

Mummy at the helm muttering under her breath.

Tell him to wait. I need to get the boat straightened up.

Ready! you shout again impatiently.

Alright!! Mummy yells as she puts the boat into full throttle and we lunge forward.

Body bent over the ski, taking a deep breath in, just a head and a ski and mounds of water, one two three seconds before you are out. Leaning back, a curtain of water behind you, you are up on the mono, impressive to watch.

He’s up! we say.

Mummy drives the boat as if our whole lives depend on it, full speed ahead, circling the bay dodging boats and buoys on the verge of helter skeltering out of control but not quite.

Mummy still muttering under her breath, she is way out of her comfort zone.

Daddy says go around again!

Many, many hours on the boat, endless patience teaching our friends and family how to waterski, fishing, discovering new coastlines, snorkeling, swimming. So much outdoor fun. And you are one of the few who moors the boat in reverse, there’s a skill to it. In it glides, no matter the weather.

Reading, reading, reading. No end to absorbing knowledge. Sitting on one side of the couch or a chair, glasses down on the table or the side of the chair, hand propping head up, the other holding the Economist. Legs crossed. In deep focus. The most relaxed.

There’s a very interesting article in The Economist.

A few sniggers, I wish I had your capacity for understanding language and retaining it, but sadly I haven’t.

The telephone rings, it’s for you. We know it’s a Dutch client by the stilted way you speak as if English is your foreign language too.

A different persona as you speak Spanish and depending on who it is. Many, many swear words interspersed with a strong Canarian accent if you’re chatting to the man at the petrol station. If it’s a Spanish acquaintance or a friend then a little more controlled. You read a situation and adapt accordingly.

We eat as a family together, Mummy waiting for you to come home. Sometimes Mummy says we’ve been rude so we try and catch you at the door, take your briefcase, hello Daddy how was your day?

You never fall for it.

Mummy lets the side down. The girls have been so rude. So we set the table in a huff, the worst knives and forks for you and Mummy just to get back at you both for making our lives a misery.

Sometimes you tease me for I can’t remember what, I hate it. You have a knack of making me laugh when I’m cross.

Pouring yourself a gin and tonic when you get home, who would like a drink you ask. Mummy will have a beer, if you’re opening a bottle of wine, we’ll have some too. Off into the garden you go. Time to reflect after a busy day.

Sometimes we go to the theatre, you’re always the first to get ready. Showered, smart shirt and trousers, hair combed to the side. Reading a book while you wait, so immersed you pay no attention to the commotion going on around you.

I look awful in this, can I borrow your skirt Julia, are you ready we need to go, says Mummy.

You’re trying to impart your love of classical music. I count the adagios, andantes, to the next piece. It’s heavy going for a young girl, I look around me instead, studying the people in the audience, drifting into dreamland imagining their lives, who they are where do they belong. Looking across at Julia and having a smirk about something. Best behaviour nevertheless, we wouldn’t dream of anything but. It’s been drummed into us from young.

You don’t only love classical, you love many different genres of music so you make sure we have the best sound system of the moment. For that ultimate surround sound experience.

Pink Floyd, Dire Straits, José Feliciano, Bob Dylan, Mike Oldfield, the list goes on.

Alongside your horticultural career as an entrepreneur and businessman, a creative streak is bubbling on the back burner. As a young father you experiment with photography. Through a camera lens you capture moments of our childhood, growing up on a fairly untouched dusty island back in the 70s and into the 80s.

Later it is a dream to buy a derelict farmhouse and renovate it. The dream becomes reality and you and Mummy and us and anyone who visits us become part of this dream. A vision you have recreated in your mind and are determined to fulfill. We take part in projects, clearing old garage spaces, chipping away at walls. The bigger the challenge, the better.

People might think you’ve taken more on than you can chew, you prove them wrong every time.

It takes years and years of rebuilding, changing, renovating to get the house how you want it. An ongoing project taken slowly and sensitively in keeping with the natural surrounds and cultural heritage of the area. The garden is given as much attention as the house. Over the years, the trees grow, the plants grow, areas are created to sit and contemplate. Life.

This is where we will find you.

A sanctuary is created, a serene space in amongst the beauty of nature for you and Mummy to enjoy. But this is not just for you. This for your family too. This is a space for family to gather and spend time together. To experience life’s simple pleasures.

Which brings me to your last creative passion. Food. What would (your) life be without food.

You delight in buying, preparing and creating dishes. You always have, but now you have more time on your hands, you have become a passionate cook.

Like you, your food is presented in a simple and unfussy way.

Quite the artist I have to say.

Which brings me to the end and the here and now.

Happy 80th Daddy, we have had a rocky ride you and I, but I have delighted in making you laugh and I hope at some point I have made you proud.