Fathers are hard cotton-balls!

...I was nineteen and still able to compose verse and learning the concept of oxymoron...

This morning, while browsing through my old files in a bid to back up my laptop after I lost almost 3GB of crucial data the night before, I found a poem I had written years ago. The files upon files of my poems, tucked and forgotten in a lonely folder, deep in the recesses of my computer's hard drive were serendipitous on Father's day. I have been absorbed reading all my creations and marveling at the fact that I could write like this (not any more). However, this poem made me nostalgic. My father and I have a deeply loving, deeply flawed and a deeply contentious relationship. I forget at times how much we love each other, and I forget at times how much I miss him. This one is for you papa, from both the nineteen year old Kanu and the one sitting across oceans from you wishing she could share a meal and a hug with you on Father's day today.

"Fathers are hard cotton-balls!

You know the lifeguard will save your life,

You have this assurance before you jump into deep waters.

You know, the same way, that your father will save you;

You have this assurance before you jump into life’s deep waters.

You know he’ll be there, through thick and thin,

Stoic, stiff-lipped and soft beneath.

Oops! But what when you’ve made a mistake?

He’ll get angry, shout at you, thunder like Thor,

And then, just like him shower you down (now we’re wet!)

But that’s not all!

He’ll heal your wounds, soothe those aches,

Suture cuts, which life has made.

In his own very special, severe way,

He’ll help you right the wrongs you have made.

Fathers are hard cotton-balls you know,

Strong, capable, dependable, indifferent, casual,

Despotic, tyrannous, absentminded (Good Lord! What a mixture!)

But beneath all that they have delicate hearts, which care for you,

And love you more than anything else in the world.

They’ll risk their life and all their savings,

To see you successful and happy in life.

They’ll never let you know how much they’ve sacrificed;

But rather push; push you so hard you’ll think they are merciless,

Punish you so badly at your mistakes, you’ll think they are most cruel.

But you never realise that in doing all that,

What strength, what willpower has gone.

They love you – so they’re cruel,

They love you – so they push,

They love you – so they sacrifice,

They love you – so they get hurt.

It’s true; Fathers are hard cotton-balls you know."