It cannot have escaped your attention that today is Father's Day.
Father's Day is a bit like Mother's Day, but the presents are usually cheaper(I did say usually), the cards are more vulgar....mentioning bodily functions...smelly ones, and beer.
Must not forget the beer.
Fathers........aren't they important? And I don't just mean in a biological way.
I wonder how many families are today without a father, or father figure(maybe through no fault of their own).......and how many of them have never had the calming male influence of a father.
OK, I hold my hand up and say that, perhaps some children are better off without their father in their life.......if that father has a tendency to violence or disruptive behaviour, then he is not much of a role model.
I'm not talking bad fathers. I am talking about those who work tirelessly to ensure that their children have a roof over their head, food in their bellies and moral guidance.
The fun things too.....we can't forget the fun things.
One of my earliest memories of my dad, is being walked from Accrington to Clayton le Moors(a long way for 4 year old legs) to watch the Whit Walks.......that is 60 years ago, and what a spectacle it was.
Somehow when you are 4 years old everything looks bigger, seems more colourful, louder and seems to last longer.
I remember being in awe of the procession, as I viewed from the lofty position of being sat on my fathers muscular shoulders.
I remember it being hot, being in my best dress and red sandals...........I remember my dad going into the Albion for lemonade and crisps.......lemonade, sucked through a waxed straw....crisps with their little blue twist of salt........nothing can compare with the taste of that experience.
I remember my father making us tents, by throwing a length of sheeting over the washing line...and pinning it into the ground with metal pegs...so that we could have an outside 'den' during the long holidays.
I remember him taking us all in the ramshackle Morris 8......it was his pride and joy......to Edisford bridge.
Spending all day there with home made fishing nets, jam jars....fishing for sticklebacks. Skimming stones across the water.
I remember going up Pendle Hill....again with home made kites........flying them, higher and higher they went up into the blue sky........ laughing as we did Roly Poly's in the grass down the hill......the beef paste picnic sandwiches, the thermos of tea that always tasted a bit funny.
This is what Father's day is about.......the memories that fathers make for their children.......only to be truly appreciated when you are grown up and have children of your own, and can understand the investment that your own father made in your future.
Alas, my dad is no longer here in person, I can't tell him how much he is loved today......but he is here in my heart and in my memory.
To all the Fathers out there. I hope you have a fantastic day.
To all the children out there....don't forget to tell your father what a great man he is, and how much you love him....you never know when you might get another chance.
Father's Day is a bit like Mother's Day, but the presents are usually cheaper(I did say usually), the cards are more vulgar....mentioning bodily functions...smelly ones, and beer.
Must not forget the beer.
Fathers........aren't they important? And I don't just mean in a biological way.
I wonder how many families are today without a father, or father figure(maybe through no fault of their own).......and how many of them have never had the calming male influence of a father.
OK, I hold my hand up and say that, perhaps some children are better off without their father in their life.......if that father has a tendency to violence or disruptive behaviour, then he is not much of a role model.
I'm not talking bad fathers. I am talking about those who work tirelessly to ensure that their children have a roof over their head, food in their bellies and moral guidance.
The fun things too.....we can't forget the fun things.
One of my earliest memories of my dad, is being walked from Accrington to Clayton le Moors(a long way for 4 year old legs) to watch the Whit Walks.......that is 60 years ago, and what a spectacle it was.
Somehow when you are 4 years old everything looks bigger, seems more colourful, louder and seems to last longer.
I remember being in awe of the procession, as I viewed from the lofty position of being sat on my fathers muscular shoulders.
I remember it being hot, being in my best dress and red sandals...........I remember my dad going into the Albion for lemonade and crisps.......lemonade, sucked through a waxed straw....crisps with their little blue twist of salt........nothing can compare with the taste of that experience.
I remember my father making us tents, by throwing a length of sheeting over the washing line...and pinning it into the ground with metal pegs...so that we could have an outside 'den' during the long holidays.
I remember him taking us all in the ramshackle Morris 8......it was his pride and joy......to Edisford bridge.
Spending all day there with home made fishing nets, jam jars....fishing for sticklebacks. Skimming stones across the water.
I remember going up Pendle Hill....again with home made kites........flying them, higher and higher they went up into the blue sky........ laughing as we did Roly Poly's in the grass down the hill......the beef paste picnic sandwiches, the thermos of tea that always tasted a bit funny.
This is what Father's day is about.......the memories that fathers make for their children.......only to be truly appreciated when you are grown up and have children of your own, and can understand the investment that your own father made in your future.
Alas, my dad is no longer here in person, I can't tell him how much he is loved today......but he is here in my heart and in my memory.
To all the Fathers out there. I hope you have a fantastic day.
To all the children out there....don't forget to tell your father what a great man he is, and how much you love him....you never know when you might get another chance.
