It would be my Da's birthday today. The Honorable John (Don) Smith. A man of limitless caring, generosity of spirit, and pocket; a big unjudgemental heart - and the owner of the very best type of sense of humour. A wicked jig, swift hand and behind-the-bike-shed titter were also his friends.
A million things remind me of him; these count as a few - the sound of a diesel van, witnessing goodwill, and social, chatty strangers. Hard, hard workers - and someone being nosy through their curtains! Shaving brushes, thick eyebrows, my brothers. My Mam, my Nana. And myself. I am his "daughter runnin' water" and always will be.
"Ah, sure, what are you going to do?" "Moses said "Pick up thy bed and walk!" ("It was Lazarus, Don!," says my Ma for the millionth time. And he laughed. That laugh. With that twinkle. "I'm handsome as ever." (As he looked in the mirror, slickin' down his eyebrows). "Ye little beaut." (When we were particularly crafty or "swifty"-pulling). "Sharden Farrdell" (to my life-long friend, Sharon (Shanny) Farrell - :)). "Yer as ugly as sin." (Ha! To all, but especially to Gareth, his doppelganger). "You just never know your luck in the big City." (When you had hope... when you had reason to have hope. And he always chose to.)
We will always be lucky, because of him.
My Da was, and is, love - and just such great craic. If we can fly his particular type of flag, even a fraction as high, we're doing alright.
I just really, really miss him.
