To celebrate Father’s Day, I was asked by TalkMum – the website for parents and parents-to-be -, which I blog for, to share a fatherhood memory. I thought I’d add it here too:
From when I was born until I was 12, my dad was a manager of a very successful West End restaurant. He worked long, unsociable hours; he was that very traditional ‘provider.’ He worked hard so that my brother and I could have what we needed, and more besides. It meant I rarely saw him. He got home in the early hours and was still in bed – to just say goodbye to – when I left for school. Our Sunday’s (his day off) were sacred. We’d always do something as a family – going out for nice meals and going to St James’ Park in London for a wander and to feed the birds are things that particularly stick in my mind.
It’s safe to say that despite his unquestioned love for us, my dad had very little hands on experience of bringing us up or looking after us – he’d be the first to admit that my mum did practically all of it on her own. This is why it’s so amazing to see what a major part he plays in his grandaughters’ lives. There’s no doubt that my mum would have been a doting and fantastic granny to my children, but sadly that was never to be. She always made my dad promise that if anything ever happened to her, he’d do everything he could for my brother and I. He’s stayed true to his word and has done a fantastic job. Just one example is that, despite still working part-time, he helps me out with the morning school run every day. My mum would have been proud.
He has taken on his role as nonno (Italian for grandad) with gusto. He does so much for us all; the girls love him to bits and my husband is a massive fan!
