When I was a little girl, I remember that when my dad was repairing something, every time he asked me to hold the hammer, just so we would have a time for a conversation with each other. I never saw my dad drinking or taking a „night out with the boys“, all he did after work was taking care of his family.
I grew up and left home for college and since then, my dad had been calling me every Sunday morning, no matter what. And when several years later I bought a house, my dad was painting it by himself for three days in the 80-degree summer heat. All he asked, was to hold his paint brush and talk to him. But I was too busy in those days, I did not find any time for a conversation with my dad.
Four years ago, my dad was visiting me. He spent many hours putting together a swingset for my daughter. He asked to bring him a cup of tea and have a talk with him, but I had to prepare for a trip that weekend, so I did not have time for any long conversations that day.
One Sunday morning we had a telephone talk as usual, I noticed that my dad had forgotten some things that we discussed lately. I was in a hurry, so our conversation was short. Few hours later that day came a call. My father was in a hospital with an aneurysm. Immediately I bought ticket for a flight and on my way I was thinking about all missed occasions to have a talk with my dad.
By the time I have arrived to hospital, my father had passed away. Now it was he who did not have time for a conversation with me. I realized how little I knew about my dad, his deepest thoughts and dreams.
After his death I learned much more about him, and even more about myself. All he ever asked me was my time. And now his has all my attention every single day.
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