My father died when I was still young and as I count down to 40 years of age, I wish he was here. I wish he could see who I have become. I wish I got to experience him longer than those few years.
When stories are told of my father and I, it is love that I hear. It is evident I was loved by him. They are times I have wondered if some of the stories of love may not be completely true, but it is evident he loved me completely because the stories match up. Even if I wanted to doubt his love for me, I wouldn’t be able to get the love I get from his parents and siblings. The way my grandparents, aunt, and uncles have loved me proves that my father loved me, and they are just continuing with what he started.
I knew my dad for a very short time and yet I still feel completely loved by him more than 30 years after his death because my family has not allowed me to forget the love, he had for me. I do have some memories of my father and sometimes I think about the memories I have and am very honored to have experienced him like this.
I remember we used to watch plays and we had ice cream. I remember him reading me stories and us walking on Kampala Road with me running with every stride he made. My dad was a tall person and so one stride was several tiny steps for me. I remember the photos and being carried on his shoulders. I remember threatening the children in the neighborhood anytime they did something wrong that I would report them to my father. Itwas a few years of life with him, but I do remember my father being present and loving me.
One of the reasons I decided to celebrate turning 40 was the fact that my dad never made it to 40 years of age. I could be dismissive or even shy about turning ‘old’ but the truth is that not everyone gets this opportunity to turn 40 years and I do have proof of that. I am honored and privileged to be turning 40 years of age. I am grateful to God for the gift of life and His grace towards me to allow me to live to see this age and I am praying for a long life to be able to live out my purpose fully. I am so grateful I get to watch my father’s children grow into kind, responsible parents. I am amazed at the love we have for each other, and I feel so privileged to have siblings that love me the way my siblings love me. I am privileged to be part of my family, and all this wouldn’t be possible without my father.
Anyone who knows me knows how much I love my grandfather and how much I loved my grandmother. My dad’s parents have loved me. I used to think it was normal for families to love each other and be in each other’s business the way mine is until I started to talk to other people and I realized a joke may not slide in their family gathering. I am grateful I am part of a family that is present in every single way. When I think about the depth of love I have for my siblings, I am glad for my dad. My dad had 6 children and I sometimes feel that he must have been a good man for us to love each other the way we do.
40 years is not possible without my father.
40 years is not possible without my father’s parents and siblings because they took over when daddy died. They have loved me, believed in me, protected me, and fought for me to be everything God has created me to be.
40 years is not possible without my father’s children because they have walked me through some tough times. The love, laughter, and jokes have kept me smiling through my darkest nights. My siblings have been a reason for me to keep living. Being a firstborn to these amazing people gives me so much joy.
I am privileged to be loved so deeply.
The Mended Canvas 