My wonderful Dad and I are so alike. Our faults are shared and our strengths are also alike. We adore each other and always have. I never had a hero like a rock-star or anyone famous to look up to - I have always found my Dad the most inspirational person alive. I grew up on a very remote, very large cattle station in Far North Queensland and the isolation and lack of access to luxuries like TV, electricity, towns, shops, schools...meant that family was literally my everything. Dad was a very gifted cattleman, horseman and bushman and thus my childhood was idyllic and safe. Well before I knew anything of positive thinking, equality and tenacity - Dad provided me with hundreds of in the flesh examples. He was always one step ahead, joyous and confident - and that is exactly what I aspired to be when I grew up.Dad spent a good part of his life throwing wild, un-branded (cleanskin) bulls off a horse. That is leaping off your horse while galloping on to a very large, very mad bull who had never seen a person before. He would then grab the bull by the tail and "throw it" on to the ground and then very quickly tie it up with a strap. After the bull had calmed down, the herd of breeders (cows) would be coached up to the bull, the bull let go and joined the mob (often as a bullock not a bull). Happy to explain how, why etc to anyone who would like to drop me a comment. Dad worked and played hard and probably as a result of his lifestyle, in 1997 had the first of a series of strokes. They were pretty bad and there were all sorts of Doctors orders. He changed his ways and slowed down a little but has continued to work just as hard.
No one ever told me though how hard it is to deal with your parent's getting older and then old. It is incomprehensible at first to imagine my Dad getting old - I guess I never thought he would get to be old. I had no mental picture of him ageing. He was just always so young, so alive - such a hero to me. Our roles are changing though I am not sure which bits are okay for me to assume and which bits he wants to hang on to. We don't talk like we used to. He doesn't have advice for me anymore. I don't think he understands the world of banking and commerce and of course that is a large part of my life. He cant ride a horse anymore because he cant balance and even works and manages the cattle so differently to what he always has. We argue but I know my opponent is not going to win me over anymore. Its a lopsided battle and I miss the challenge we always had in our relationship. Mum says its his way of making it easier for me when he's not around - but I cant even be grown up enough to bring myself to think about that time.
I think if he was only my Dad I would be able to deal with this better. My hero is still my hero and I try so hard every day to spend quite time with him and just be soothed by the sound of his voice. The truth is I don't think I am ready to give up on my hero - not grown up enough to go forward and too old to go back. I feel stuck in the middle of little and big, silly and wise.
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Slippery is off tomorrow for 4 weeks or so with the Fiji World Cup Rugby League team. He is so committed to them and I really hope they do well. He is their Trainer so watch out for him if you see a Fiji televised match. Kids are missing him already (like their mother).
All the best
Farmer Bub
