Thank God I Can Dance With My Father Again.

Thank God I Can Dance With My Father Again.

Every time I listen to Dance with my father again by Luther Vandross, I always feel he sang it special for me and my dad as it captures so aptly my relationship with him. The only difference is that I do not wish I could dance with my father again, but can really dance now and wish to continued to dance with my father for always.

Just a few weeks ago when I thought I would now be wishing I could dance with him again, God intervened and now I can say thank God I can dance with my father again and again.

It all began when about 3 weeks ago my mum called to inform me that my dad was seriously ill and suggested that I come over as soon as I can to see him. The minute she suggested I come over, I convinced myself that he was dead and nothing she or others said to reassure me, would make me believe otherwise.

I arranged for the next available flight to Naija and left 3 days after my mumsy's phone call.

You see the reason I was so convinced my old man was dead was because I have never seen him or known him to be ill. I mean it, I can’t ever recollect my dad ill, ever in my life and I lived most of my life with them. Except for the short period I was away for studies (and even then, every holiday I was back home), and now that I live in the UK.

So it really was a great shock to me to be told my dad was ill. My mumsy being ill will not surprise me at all. My mum unn!! Let’s just say is permanently ill. If it is not leg today it is hand or head. There is always something wrong with her.

I remember every time she complains about pain or feeling ill my dad will say to her “You this woman it is always something with you. Today its headache, tomorrow hand, next tomorrow leg, nose etc. Not that her so call illness ever hospitalise her or stop her from her busy and hard going schedule. When you ask her to rest and offer to help, my mumsy won’t hear of it. So I guess the illness is never serious with her as it‘s never stopped her from going to outer Mongolia and back if she wants to .

Oh that woman, strong she is. As strong as a horse, she just never stops her hard work and never stops complaining about being ill at the same time. I just think she loves whinging about illness. And we are all use to her now. But my dad no illness whatsoever have I witnessed hence my shock.

Still in shock and convinced that my dad was dead, I demanded to see him immediately and went straight from the airport to his hospital. Believe you me I was a wreck before I arrived in Lagos and when I saw my dad still and looking very frail with all kinds of tubes and gadget attached to him, I just went to pieces. It tore my heart seeing him so vulnerable. He wasn’t dead and what a great relief that was to know, but he was not the dad I have grown to know.

He opened his eyes and managed a smile at me. A small gesture of acknowledgement that sapped all the strength out of him. I sat there by his bed side holding on to his hand tears rolling silently nonstop down my eyes, and every now and then he manages to squeeze my hand letting me know he is aware that I’m with him and he is with me..

As I sat there all day by his side my mind just kept wondering back and forth. I have always seen my parents as invincible and now it just hit me that they can die. Not that I don’t know that they can die or that we would all die at some point. It’s just that I have never thought of them in that light. I mean dying. I guess I never wanted to accept such possibility when it comes to my mum and dad.

Not only that, I hate and fear death. Yes I have said it. I fear death. Every time I hear of death, I feel this tight knot in my stomach and a depressing feeling will wash over me immediately. It doesn’t matter who died, weather I know them or not, the mention of anyone dying does that to me and the closer the person is to me, the longer I remain in that state.

So you can imagine what a nervous wreck I was through out my almost two weeks stay in Naija as I tried to comprehend that my dad could die.

My dad who has no,” No” in his dictionary when it comes to me. My dad who has spoilt me silly all my life. My dad, that I love to twist round my little finger since I can remember how to. My dad, who never spank me.

No I lied there, he spanked me once. Yep he did that once when he caught me according to him stealing Ovaltine as a child.
I remember as a child, every evening, I’ll have a cup of ovaltine just before my popsy returns from work. And that day my mum had refused me one as punishment for something I had done. Can’t really remember what now. When my mum refused to bulge like she normally does eventually when she has refused me anything, I decided to help myself to it. I took a stool, stood on it and got the large tin of ovaltine from the kitchen cabinet.

Instead of taking from it and mixing myself some drink, I decided to sit myself on the ground and with a spoon eat the Ovaltine straight from the tin. I must have been there a long time eating away when my dad came in and found me. “What are you doing princess?” (that is his endearment or nickname he calls me by) he asked and I jumped up and started to cry.

My mum came in saw what I was up to, took the now almost empty tin of Ovaltine from me and explained to my dad what had happened. She said she thought I had gone to my room to sleep from sulking when I was so quiet for a long time.

Well well, I have never seen my dad so angry with me in all my life. He went in got a cane and gave me some good strokes of the cane on my hand. You should have seen me with grains of ovaltine stuck all around my mouth nose hands and even dress and tears running down my eyes . It was comical and yes I have the pictures taken by my mum of the incidence.

That was the only time my dad has ever spanked me. I learnt that day, that there are two thing that my dad can’t tolerate and that is lying and stealing. Knowing that, I never ever took anything without asking for permission ever again . But my mumsy, oh she spanks me every now and then when I err. She is the strict one in my life and frequently clashes with my dad over what she describe as his tendency to spoil me.

Whenever my mum refuses me anything, I'll go to my dad and say “dad I want this or want to do this and mum has refused me it, can you speak with her or can I have it, do it or go and when she ask tell her you allowed me to . And depending on what it is, my dad will either allow me, promising to sort it out with my mum or speak with her and persuade her to change her mind.

Usually my mum will grudgingly agree saying “you’re the one spoiling this child and when she turns out bad, I will be the one that would be blamed for it not you. To which my dad will normally reply she is our child, she won’t turn out bad. And he is right on that score.

My Dad, he is the type that will reason with you in his gentle spoken voice, always calm, never perturbed by anything, very laid back, unassuming and generous to a fault. Yep generous to a fault he is. If he is down to his last penny and starving and you come to ask him for help, he will hand over that last dime and go hungry himself. That is the kind of person he is.

My dad loves music and fills our home with music all the time. And he is quite diverse in his taste for music but basically a soul and Jazz buff, and his music collection is humongous I tell you. I mean we have a whole large room for his collections from those old vinyl LPs to SPs, CDs Cassette etc.

I remember waking up every weekend Saturday and Sunday to the music of Jim Reeves, the Everly Brothers, Kenny Roger, Abba, etc as a child. In fact I hear them in my sleep as early as 5.00am in the morning lulling me in my sleep and nicely bring me to wakefulness eventually.

I also remember him playing music of groups like Bar Kays, Manhattans, The Whispers, Shalamar, Gap Band, Zapp Band, Cameo, Lakeside, The Supremes, 3 Degrees, Prince, and The Jacksons etc.
He is very very current as well and updates his collection with present day artist as well. I hardly ever buy cds as I get them from him everytime I go home.

He was also always challenging us to a dance competition when I was growing up and the best dancers (1st 2nd and 3rd) normally gets loads of prezzies. Most often I am usually the 1st among my numerous cousins living with us. And there is no favouritism I can tell you. Yep I am a very good dancer and can dance even if I say so myself . I got't from my Daddy his love of music and dancing.

My parents are movie buff as well and we use to go to the movie a lot. Most weekend evenings my dad would drive to the island to watch movies from Indian movies to Hollywood movies. When we lived in the north, Indian movie was the fad and we are always going to the movies to watch them.

My dad off course is a football fan and hardly misses matches at the stadium. Even though I was a girl, he was always taking me along with him to watch matches at the National and Onikan stadiums. He would carry me across his shoulders throughout the game so I can see the matches clearly.

As a child, my dad never returns from work without bring home for me Gala and Smarties. I vividly recollect always running up to him immediately he steps inside screaming daddy, daddy, daddy. He will then lift me up high a few times before handing me my bag of goodies.

When I started reading comics and novels, the goody bag was upgraded to included my favourite comics like Spiderman, Superman, Tin tin war comics etc and of my favourite romance novels like Mills and Boons, Dennis Robins, Barbara Cartland. And it continued through to my teenage years.

In my teen years, I love going to the Library and my popsy will take a break from work, "The Mint" in Victoria Island and come home thrice a week to pick me up and drop me off at the central library in CMS and then collect me home after work.

My relationship with my dad was closer than with my mum as a child and up through to most of my teen years. It is still very close now but at some point towards my adulthood, it dampened a bit. I guess the female factor, my mum’s better understanding of it and his over protectiveness as I started having relationship caused the unease.

But that was a very brief period as it didn’t take long for my mumsy to make him realise that I am a big girl now. And that me dating comes with becoming an adult and he has to accept it which he grudgingly did.

I am not going to go into some really embarrassing then but funny now, episodes between him and my dates or the scrutiny and third degree he puts them through here.

All in all, I couldn’t have wish for a better childhood and parents than I had and have. My dad is a supa dupa dad. Mind you he is not without his faults and I love him to bits faults and all.

He is the yardstick I use to measure men. He is the greatest Dad on earth, a loving, faithful, selfless and devoted dad, husband, brother, friend etc to those who know him.

And I am so thankful to God that my dad pulled through and is almost fully recovered now and back to being the dad I have always known. I still can’t get over the fact that I nearly lost my dad though. As much as I dread the thought of it or want to deny it, I now realise that I could lose any or both my parents at anytime.

And I know that I have to psych myself to accept and be prepared to deal with such possibility. This scare has shown me how unprepared and unable I am to deal with any such occurrence. Again is one really ever prepared for the loss of a dearly loved one I ask myself. Why can’t we live forever? Why can’t my parents live forever? And please please God keep my dad alive for me.
I love you Dad and here is one of our favourite Luther Vandross song “Dance With My Father” in your honour this Father’s Day.

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HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL THE FATHERS OUT THERE