high on his shoulders

i have this memory of being carried on my father's shoulders. he is tall and lean and as a child it was such a scary thing to be so high up. it was a scary thing and yet it wasn't because i knew i was safe and secure as i sat perched above tall skyscrapers and low flying planes, or at least that's how it seemed. i could climb tall trees because i could handle the heights on my father's shoulders.

on occasion he would even run with me on his shoulders.

imagine the thrill.

yesterday was dad's day and we had already spoken on the phone earlier in the week so he had told me i didn't need to call yesterday to express the same sentiments i had already spoken. he knows that i love him, i have told him so and i tell him every time we speak. he was always a man who didn't express those sorts of feelings very readily but he was a product of his generation and he did manage to show his love for me in the safety and concern he provided daily as i grew. i've not always agreed with the way he does things, in fact we've disagreed more often than i've told him about but yet, he's my dad and i've always respected the model that he has been for me. he's carried me high on his shoulders and he has been proud of me .. and i of him.

i love you dad. now turn up your hearing aid old man, i'm bragging on you.