Saying goodbye..

Life with my dad. What can I say? He was a brilliant man in his youth, he saw colour, form and life all as an adventure he needed to conquer. He was self indulgent, lover of decadent food, flavour and texture. He was difficult and demanding of his life long partner.
He had no time room in his life for responsibility, materialism or accountability. He was free spirited.
He was complicated and  at the same time not at all.

Dad was the kind of man who if he saw me, I was right there in his space, he showed his love and attention, but when not in shared space I may not hear or see or hear from him for months on end. Mom hid that well as a child, but the older I got the more I realized this. But when I did see him , especially as a child I thought wow, what great adventure would we have? Like many little girls, I loved my dad. When I got off that plane every summer I would run and jump into his arms and just hug him. He was a big man, six three, and when I was a kid his arms were the size of tree branches, very strong.

I crossed provinces with him, road In the back of a pick up truck in the seventies through the mountains of Jasper , seeing mountain goats take over the road , so we had a picnic in the flatbed.
I crossed a suspension bridge by myself at six (might explain my crazy fear of heights!) went white water rafting at 7 and fell out, scooped right back in by his big arm.  Climbed mountains, had Christmas on a march break adventure, skied down great mountains.( likely a bunny hill!)

Music was a big part of his life, and his addictions. music always filled the house, be in 3pm or 3am. He loved all kinds, especially 70's rock. He was a massive John Lennon fan. the guess who and Burton comings, super tramp .. He had hundreds of albums, always blasting.

When I was a teenager he taught me about canning, and making pickles and tomato sauce from scratch, something he did with is mom. He loved to grow tomatoes, always abundant. He made the best homemade pizza, Chinese food.. Anything really. I use to bring friends to his house just to eat Chinese.

I worked with him on job sites as a teenager, painted , poured balconies. He could fix or make anything. Rarely the stuff at home though!

He died this month, and our relationship was getting better after years of not so much of good things.. Losing a parent no matter your relationship is  heartbreaking.  I want to remember him as he was , not for his absences, but for those moments when I thought my heart would burst with love, for the crazy big man full of adventures, art and music.

Saying good bye to him is not something I was ready to do.  so instead I will dance to seventies rock, and paint some abstract art inspired by him.  Letting go of the not so good times.. And remembering breakfast at four am, over looking the lake thinking wow he woke me up to see the mist and watch the sun rise, while everyone else was fast asleep.

Because he once believed it was a beautiful world.