Writing about my father by Annmarie Miles

My dad was a story-teller. I heard the same stories numerous times through my childhood, but he had the ability to make us laugh every time. He was a master at bringing home the punchline no matter how well you knew it. Daddy loved an audience and always had a speech ready. He lived with an acquired brain injury for over thirty years until his death at 83 y.o. So, as the years went on, he got some details confused, and as they say in Ireland, some of his stories grew with the telling. But it was always entertaining, and people just loved him.

My story-telling was more in songs when I was growing up. You may have read before how I didn’t start writing stories regularly until I turned forty, then they poured out of me, as if they’d been sitting in storage, waiting to be released. 

One of my most treasured possessions is a copy of my first collection of short stories which I had given to my dad. After he died, I found it in his belongings. He had ticked the end of each story, like a teacher marking homework. And put ‘Very good,” at the end of it. He never spoke to me about it, but I hope I made him laugh.

I believe my creative streak, my desire to tell a story, my ability to stand in a room full of people and talk and sing, comes from him. My mother had a beautiful voice, but she was less in love with the limelight. Me and my seven older siblings were taught by my father to perform. “Stand up straight and sing out loud. Lift your head up, your granny can’t hear you. That was very short, you’ll have to sing another one, or do a recitation.” Picking what song we learned for the Christmas party was as vital a decision as picking what we wanted from Santa.

I find it hard to write about my Daddy. His existence was huge on my horizon and seven years later, I still can’t believe he is gone. I have written a short memoir about him, but I can't seem to get to grips with editing it. Do we ever, I wonder, come to terms with referring someone so loved, in the past tense?

On this Father’s Day, I determine again to be the story-teller he raised me to be. He believed in God and was true to his Roman Catholic faith to the end. He’d have no problem with me using my writing to tell God’s story. Just so long as I stand up straight when I tell it so everyone can hear. Good instruction I reckon.  :) 

Annmarie Miles is from Dublin, Ireland.
She lives with her husband Richard who is a pastor in the Eastern Valley of Gwent, in South Wales. She writes short stories, magazine articles, devotional pieces for Christian radio, and blogs about her faith at www.auntyamo.com Her first collection of short stories published in 2013, is called 'The Long & The Short of it'. Her second collection, 'A Sense of the Sea and other stories,' was published in 2018 and in December 2019 she published her first novel, Gorse Lodge. She is currently editing a non-fiction book about being an overweight Christian called, 'Have mercy on me O Lord, a slimmer.'