Sam passed away on 29 May 2023. His absences remains inconceivable.
"Are you *** Begg?"
"Yes"
"I remember your dad playing tennis at Forest Hill."
Yes. You probably do. He did not play tennis quietly or patiently.
Dad approaches everything in his way -- and playing tennis means, that, on occasion - a racket was tossed. Not at any one - just 'cause - well you know why? Because, sometimes, you need to toss a racket.
Rules, boundaries, guidelines, expectations are there and have a purpose - but they don't replace feelings.
And feelings are what makes life worth living.
My dad has real feelings - and he lets 'em out.
When its time to be silly - Sam Begg is silly. There is not a kid in the world who has met my dad who is not clear on that.
Here Sam is about to stand on his head. In a dining room. In Bermuda. Because - well why not?
We got our own dining room at this resort every other meal of our trip. See, doing what you want to do - when you want to do it - has real merit.
What does having a dad like this mean to a kid ? Or to a grandkid? Well, for me, it meant that I was safe. To try - to feel - and to mess up and try again. Because I was human and all of us are.
I lose sight of this lesson often. I spend a great deal of time controlling our life. The calendar, the emails, the scheduling. I worry about exposing the children and Tom and I to experiences. But what I think I am forgetting is that experiences - certainly the best experiences, come organically and are rooted in feelings.
I love you Daddy. I will try to remember to stand on my head more often.