On the other end of the phone Dad was rummaging through storage boxes.
“Oh look, I found one of your old drawings. You drew me a mermaid and it says ‘Happy Birthday Dad” he said bursting into laughter.
I chuckled as nostalgia overcame me.
Dad had migrated when I was three to make a better life for us. Like most families, our stories were complex.
I grew up mostly without his physical presence but he was always there.
He phoned as often as he could, sent me whatever I needed and ensured my library was ever growing. There was always a new storybook or some crafty device to harness my creativity. (more…)