**Disclaimer: this post is a tad long.

Yesterday a friend asked me how much I would share on this blog. My response : “How long do you know me?”

I’m the poster child for transparency. What you see is what you get. You know when I’m happy, sad or indifferent (which is rare).

 So…

My parents split more than two years ago and it was the most gut-wrenching experience ever. It was like someone had plunged a knife right through my heart. I had so many questions and sadly very few answers.

People say it’s easier when you are older. I beg to differ.

Here was a couple who had just celebrated their 40^th Anniversary; these were the two people that my world revolved around. I spent many nights trying to figure out: What? When? Why? How?

To this day I cannot find the logic but have come to learn to trust the process.

Today, I’d like to share about my father (or Daddo as he was affectionately known). If you speak to my siblings they will tell you that I was always Daddo’s girl so it’s probably why I took the split the hardest. While I have no doubt Daddo loved us all dearly and unconditionally, Kalê (my eldest sister who had cerebral palsy) was definitely his little girl.

I remember quite vividly how they connected… and marveled at how he and my mother took care of her – as best they knew how. Having a special needs child is not for the faint-hearted. My parents excelled in this role.

For her petite, beautiful self (oh yes, of all the kids she was blessed with a peaches and cream complexion, long black eyelashes and hair that would put any Pantene ad to shame) she was quite a handful at times. Everyone thinks I’m a drama-mama but looking back I think I pale in comparison to Kalê. 

Because she couldn’t talk, Kalê and Daddo had their own secret code when it came to communicating – they would make these gurgling sounds or exchange looks that only they could understand. And not to mention those hearty fits of laughter they shared when he tried to do something comical to keep her entertained. Those images are forever ingrained in my memory. But I digress!

You know, my father was no saint but as I mature I realise that in fact none of us are perfect or without fault. Warts and all, in the bigger scheme of things he was a one in a million and we couldn’t have asked for a more devoted, caring father or husband; even on those days when he chose to take a vow of silence and sulk for reasons only known to him.

During one of our heart to heart chats he cried and said that there were many times he wished he had lots of money because there was so much he wanted to do for us. But, I allayed his concern and reminded him that what he instilled in us and gave us over the years was worth far more. His love for the Lord and unwavering faith was admirable, even when things seemed hopeless.

Some of the fond memories I have:

* We used to write little notes asking him for 50c (it was a lot back in the day) for school, and inevitably we’d find it next to our lunch the next morning.

* Friday’s were our treat day and I guess this is where my love affair with chocolate began.

* We’d never admit it (oops I just did), but Daddo spoilt us.

* Music – Peaches and Crème, The Manhattans, The Temptations, The Ink Spots (especially that song entitled the Gypsy), Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole. He’d whistle the tune of Mona Lisa when my mother was nagging about something 🙂

* Sport – we’d sit with him in the wee hours watching marvelous Marvin Hagler (I’m really giving my age away now) and even Kalê would squeal with delight when uppercuts and heavy blows were exchanged.

* Soccer – United and Orlando Pirates – heaven help us on the days when Man United lost. I don’t even think Sir Alex Ferguson took their defeats so seriously.

Why am I sharing all of this?

Simple.

I may never know or completely understand why my parents went their separate ways. I’ve moved beyond the anger, pain and heartache. I’ve chosen to embrace the lessons from this part of my life’s journey.

What I know for sure: given the chance to start all over again and if God allowed us to choose our parents, I know we would all choose Daddo again.

Thanks for taking the time to read.

 Stay favoured and fabulous x