Dad | Mum In The Madhouse


Tim over at Bringing up Charlie is hosting a Father’s Day carnival this week to celebrate the launch of his book  Fatherhood, The Essential Guide.  Tim’s book is the perfect present to give any new or expectant father this Sunday as it is a great introduction to fatherhood with a great level of respect for woman and their role in all this parenting lark too, which is all I have come to expect from Tin who was Blogger of the year at The MAD Blog Awards last year.


I don’t need to write down how much of a fab dad MadDad is to the boys, as they experience it everyday.  They are so lucky to have such a fantastic male roll model in their lives, instead I am going to tell you a little about my Dad.

My Dad

Does the passing of time without someone in your life make them them become larger than life?  I often wonder if I look back on my time with Dad with rose tinted glasses, but then I realise that no, this was just the man he was.

My Dad was a mans, man.  He was an engineer and worked in the ship yards,  He was a strong man with wide fingers and muck permanently under his nails.  The lines in his hands highlighted by the oil and grime put there from years of hard graft.

My Dad was a tough man.  He carried around with him his broken nose and regaled us with storied of his early youth boxing in the boys brigade.  People didn’t cross my dad.  He protected his family with a quiet unspoken dignity.

My Dad was a gentle man.  He looked after my Auntie Christine with cancer ferrying her to and from hospital and bringing her elephants feet every weekend an d leaving her and mum, who were sisters and best friends to enjoy their remaining time together.

My Dad was an intelligent man, who always wrote in ink, never biro and went to Grammar school.  When my mum died I found his reports and exam papers.  He was one of those men that was able  to fix anything and everything.

My Dad found it hard to say no to people.  He was always doing someone a favor, making something for someone.

My Dad was a creative man.  He made the cast iron railings and gate that are at the family home and I have the fireside companion set he made my mum out of brass.

My Dad was a family man, getting his PSV licence so he could drive the band bus and taking us on family caravanning holidays.

My Dad was a working man and he always ensured his family were well looked after and cared for.  He earned the respect of the people he worked with.

My Dad was a drinker, once drinking all day and night whilst playing chess with a mate and then going to feed the fishes with his money at the boating lake.

My Dad was a tactile man, always there for a hug, tickle or kiss.

My Dad was a dancer.  Light on his feet and agile too.  Him and mum cut a mean dash on the dance floor at many an event and family party.  The jive was their dance.

My Dad was and still is inspiration.

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