My Hero

My wonderful Dad is 84 years young tomorrow. I love him so much. He is my hero. My rock. He is one of life's gentlemen.
.
.

He is from a different generation yet he is still young at heart. He is everything I can never be. He was a brilliant amateur sportsman, good at running, football, rowing & .....darts! He grew up in a pub. His parents were always busy & not really into touchy feely emotional stuff. When the war started he was unable to serve because of a major stomach op & bad injury to his leg sustained while playing football when a flailing lace from the old style ball opened up a gaping wound on his shin which became badly infected. He worked with his Father helping to build Spitfires. Several times they narrowly escaped the blitz at the factory they worked in. He meet my Mum when he was an apprentice electrician. They celebrate their "Diamond" Anniversary next month, which is an incredible achievement. There love remains undiminished. He has always been faithful & never strayed.

.

He worked on Power stations, Trains & Ships, what ever it took to look after his family. He loves people & was renowned & respected for his approach to his team when he was a foreman. As a Dad he was second to none.

.

He loved to make me toys. It was his brilliant gift for painting cartoon characters in the steamy windows of our kitchen & dining room that bought out the artist in me as a child. Bugs Bunny, Top Cat & Yogi Bear came to life before my eyes. It was such a shame that he was some how robbed of having a "normal" child. He tried & tried to get me interested in sport. Hid Dad loved sports & he so wanted me to share his passion. Eventually he gave up on me actually playing anything remotely to do with team sports or running. He was always quiet & thoughtful at home but he seemed to come alive when we had company. Our relationship was cemented by his eventual success to take me along to watch our local football team. At last we had something in common. Emotions were a subject you just could not go near but Footy was a whole different thing. These shared experiences are something I will always treasure. I wanted my Dad to be happy & proud of me. I did not do man stuff terribly well & at the time this was a positive development to our friendship. We still share this passion now.

.

I love him with all my heart. It tore me apart to hurt him by telling him my truth. Until that day of disclosure we had never had a crossword together. I was no Angel & he had to tell me off from time to time although not that often, but we had never argued until then.

.

We never talked about my condition for ten years. It was impossible & not open to discussion. When I invitably became so ill at trying to live to my parents wishes of not transitioning while they were alive & had to tell him what the consultant at the hospital thought of my situation he took the news very badly. They had only tried to protect me out of missguided love. They assumed I would lose all my friends, my job & be chased down the street with burning torches, such were their fears. He had been in denial for all that time. How could some one from a different age possibly come to terms with a child/adult like me, bless him? He ended up in an ambulance the same week such was his own turmoil. We had for the first time in our lives leading up to this hiatus, had several blazing rows which were completely out of character for both of us.

.

That was two years ago. Now we have both changed & our relationship is as strong as ever. My hero now protects me & loves me for who I am. The turning point came when I went away for surgery. He knew then my transition was real & going to happen. If there had been any other way that avoided hurting him I would have taken it. He went from denial to acceptance the weekend before I had my operation. We went to his friends together & told them one by one in person or via letters & he found the same love & acceptance from his friends, just as I had been so blessed with nearly all of mine.

.

While I was away he told our neighbours & mutual friends just to make things easier for me. It is not easy for him but he is trying so very hard. He now always calls me Debbie which has taken a huge effort on his part & if anyone else gets it wrong he politely puts them right. He tries to do some of the heavy jobs he really should not be doing now rather than ask me because I simply cannot physically do them now. Thankfully we have very good neighbours who keep an eye out to make sure he is not doing too much while I am away from home.

.

Tomorrow we hope to go out for a family lunch together to celebrate his birthday & then at his own request we are off to the cinema to see

"MU MA MIA"

My Hero, my wonderful DAD is 84 years young.

God Bless Him.

What an incredibly sweet choice of film he made, what a wonderful, wonderful man!

Love

Debbie