The Fearless Warrior

I meant to sit down and write about Father’s Day for a least a week now, but it has been a bit of a work whirlwind.  So here I am Sunday afternoon…writing.  Its hard.  I just sat down at the computer and I have written this post a few times.  Where to start, what memories to share, there are so many good ones… but I see what my theme is now.

Something most of you don’t know is that I spent a good chunk of my childhood growing up in Gaborone, Botswana. So I have a great many memories that involve strange things from a far away place. One memory that stands out is the time my dad took me camping in the Kalahari Desert.

I will never forget that day.  It wasn’t the desert that sprawled on forever, it wasn’t setting up a tent or being on an adventure, it was the moment a bushman came into my sight.  At first he was a tiny dot on the horizon surrounded by a black cloud, as he got closer I could see that the cloud was flies. I remember the sheer volume of the flies spinning around him.  He approached our campsite and held out an ostrich egg for water. I don’t really know what else transpired other than the flies and being mesmerized by the bow and arrows he carried on his otherwise naked body.  I do remember not feeling any fear, because I was with my daddy.  As cool as that story is, and the adventure that we had… my memory is my confidence in my dad.  The confidence that he would take care of us, he would fight that bushman and win.

My dad was my hero. I believed in him. When I was with him: that ocean wave would never harm me, I could climb that tree higher, ride my bike faster.  To me he was the fearless warrior.  He knew everything.  He gave me the self-esteem ( well part of it, my mom is pretty amazing too) that I have today.  He took the time to be with me, show me things and created adventures in everyday life.

He believed in me as much as I believed in him.  He gave me the best thing a father can give their children. Time.

Happy Fathers Day to my Fearless Warrior.

Love

Kim xo