DADDY DEAREST

 I woke up today with thoughts of my Dad, Mr. Dale Smith, who passed on many years ago, when I was only eight years old.     

He was a Disciplinarian and during the few years that I spent with him, he kept me and my siblings on the straight and narrow path. I was afraid of him. We all were (our Mom included).        

My Dad did not socialize. He always kept to himself.  He never went out and hardly ever had friends come over to our house. He preferred to stay home and sip on his Whiskey. 

He enjoyed watching CNN News on our small black and white television set. I recall vividly how we would all sit in the living room and watch TV together as a family, very quietly. My Dad disliked noise.  He often told my siblings and I, “Children are to be seen and not to be heard”, and he meant just that.

He was a man who thoroughly enjoyed his space. If we spent too much time inside the house, he would ask my siblings and I; “Are you trying to count my teeth” (never mind that he actually wore false teeth), but we loved him all the same and I know he loved us too.    

My Dad would pat me on the forehead and call me “Girlie” when he was in a good mood , which was rare. My Dad was not a jolly person.

My siblings and I we were not allowed to play outside of the yard and this taught us how to truly enjoy each another’s company. 

Visitors were not allowed in our home. I recall how, many a time, the Jehovah’s Witnesses who tried to visit our home were turned away at the gate. It was the duty of us kids to inform them, rather sheepishly; “Dad says Go Away”.

 

Mr.Smith was a big fan of corporal punishment and I will never forget a particular morning when Yours Truly grew ‘long fingers’ and dug into Big Sister’s stash of coin savings.

The parents were away at work and my older siblings were at school.  My younger sister and I remained at home every morning (we had not yet started school) until the rest of the family returned in the evening.

I raided Big Sister’s savings in her secret spot (on top of the Wardrobe) and raced to the shop, which was a walking distance, whereupon I made it ‘rain’ all sorts of good things for baby sis and I.   We bought big red apples, chocolate, fizzy drinks, biscuits and , and, and! We even bought the daily newspaper, regardless of the fact that we could not read at the time. 

Later that evening, my older sister noticed that her coin savings had been tampered with. I was already fast asleep. Of course I was the prime suspect.  I was woken up and told that Dad wanted to have a word with me.  I stepped out of bed (still half asleep) and walked into the living room, where I found him seated on his favourite couch- sjambok in hand. Yeah…  Sjambok! That is how my Dad ‘rolled’. He asked me what had happened to my sister’s money and I sang my confession like a cannery, before enduring the dreaded and excruciating lashes of that, THAT SJAMBOK!   

 Our family owned a lovely dog named “Freeway”. She too was not spared the rod. If she so much as howled for no reason, my Dad simply walked out of the house with his Sjambok and gave her a couple of lashes to ‘call her to order’.

One thing I loved about Pops is that he never ever forgot birthdays.  He always made us feel extra special on our birthdays. These were our best days. We would gather around the table  and sing “Happy Birthday”, before enjoying chocolate cake and refreshments. However, our friends were not allowed to join us.      

 One afternoon, our Dad returned home from work earlier than usual. He appeared to be physically un-well. That evening, our Mom made arrangements to get him to Hospital, where he spent a couple of days.  

 Sadly, My Papa never made it back home alive.

 

Until next week, much love and God Bless!!