Living with giants

I am so grateful to my Dad for being such a meticulous person. He had files for everything. Even letters I sent him from the UK were all filed in date order. Receipts, letters to contractors that I looked through gave me an idea of the cost of things in those days. The possibilities in those times to build, to buy, to work hard and be as honest as can be. Today as we changed the almost 60 year old burglary proof on our home, the contractor commented about the quality of the rods that were used. The tiler had talked about the solid nature of the concrete, so hard to break. It makes me wonder if we have gone forward in many ways but regressed in others. I am grateful for a finicky father. He was a list guy.. to do lists.. travel lists… I get that from him and I am so appreciate of that gift. So here’s what I found in his drawer years ago – the birth certificate of my grandfather Francis Isaac Nkyamekye Andoh. The marriage section where my grandparents had their union blessed at a ripe -ish age has as witnesses my parents Francis & Josephine. My Dad was basically his dad’s best man…

I miss my Dad terribly and I wish he was around for me to look after him.  It’s strange how with age you realise what giants you have lived with.  But of course, as a child, the six foot plus man is just your father.  Not the first African to head the UAC, not a strong Catholic who supported his church all his life and worked as a volunteer for the Ghana Society for the Blind and the Saint Vincent de Paul Society for the poor and underprivileged.  Dad was just Dad and not a Presidential Awardee for services to country. A responsible guy, he was so proud of his family and beautiful wife. A timely guy, he passed away on their 56th wedding anniversary. I used to wonder why he always felt the need to constantly introduce us to people.  Now I understand.  But that understanding is accompanied by a strong sense of loss. 

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