Hello My Dad.
for as long as i remember,
you've always been cagey
about having your photo taken -

see? i wasn't quick enough.

there is still something
between you and the camera.

and that's the stern daddy look.

today is your birthday - it's time for family speeches, time for special remembering. i love it that a lot of the culture you and mum created for me during my childhood still lives on in my own little family - our closeness, funny sayings, wisdom from the uncles, walking and talking, do-it-yourself-fix-its, inhaling a glass of wine before drinking it. i love it that you insist on us making our own way in the world, but whenever i send up the smoke signals, you and mum are quick to respond, to listen, sometimes to advise.
i love your bravery, your adventuring, your taking the road less travelled. i love it that you are so involved in our life, i love the easy chats each of our children have with you and mum, your lively interest in their worlds. i love it that you made a beautiful childhood for me, and that's inspired me in creating beauty for my own children. you taught me that words are powerful and family is paramount, that a day in the surf makes a memory, that food is more than nourishment for the body - it delights the soul. i love your realism - yet you are emotional like me - and for all of our similarity, our cat-and-dogged-ness, i feel how you think.

I love you, My Dad.