In Loving Memory of Dad

Happy new year! This is my first post of 2015 and I dedicate it to my late dad who passed on 23rd January, 2014. It is one year today since his demise. It seems like yesterday that we buried him.

Christopher Nduati Thuo was the man I called my father. My dad was a cool guy. I had the privilege of growing up with a father. I appreciate this now knowing how fragile life is. One minute you are here, the next you are gone. It would seem natural to grow up with a father because most of us are born to find two parents. You even think it is your right to have them both but the cruel hand of death quickly reminds you how fleeting life can be.

My dad was my go to guy. He was easy and totally laid back. Sometimes too laid back for my liking. My friends would just enjoy coming home and playing computer games as my dad would not bring a fuss. Speaking of computer games, yes, my dad brought home a computer in the early 90s and that was quite the phenomenon in those days. It is the equivalent of having Xbox or PS4 these days. I remember playing DOOM (that was the game!) or even WOLF (Remember that PC game?!). Most times though, my brother and I would be competing for space with dad. He spent hours on the computer. He was a computer guy and he was always on his computer. He was always typing stuff on a black screen that I later came to know was MS DOS. (Microsoft Disk Operating System). The 'stuff'' he was typing were actually commands. He was a coder. A big time programmer. He was using FoxPro and Lotus123. That was the thing back then. I didn't take much interest although I got to know a few commands. Today, I wish perhaps I would have taken more interest. What fascinated me most actually were the numerous diskettes otherwise known as 3½"floppy disks that he had. Can you imagine the size of a diskette? It could only hold up to 1.44MB free disk space. That's just unbelievable today! This meant copying data was a nightmare of sorts. You would insert the disk in the disk drive and copy part 1, then you would receive a prompt to insert disk 2 to continue copying and so on..Imagine what would happen when one of the disks would not read..Strike F1 (the default key for all issues).This happened a lot!

A diskette-lest we forget

Strike 'F1'. Sigh!

Dad was resilient. Ask any programmer and they would tell you how patient you need to be. You miss a comma and the code does not work as it should. Like most coders I know, dad was a loner. Few friends and hardly a talker. He did his talking on the computer. Dad was not all computers... okay maybe he was 90% computers....but he loved poetry. He had memorized the Desiderata and would always enjoy all forms of poetry. He would always journal. He had to have a diary every year and he would write on it religiously. He would write it at the end of the day and chronicle what had happened during that day. He would start by writing, 'Today I woke up at 5:30 a.m....' Speaking about waking up...Dad was just a freak with timekeeping. My dad was a morning person while like my mother, I am nocturnal and also love my sleep. I am also a heavy sleeper which he was not. Waking up at 5:30 a.m was routine for him whether it was Monday or Sunday. I dreaded going anywhere with him as he would remind me of the 'event' a week before and follow it up to the day before the event. Mom had reconciled with the fact that it was impossible to leave the house with dad, even though the destination was the same, as he would be such a nuisance in the morning. I didn't have the luxury. Needless to say, it was a big fight going anywhere with my dad. I would say morning found him awake. I would wake up to find him reading page 37 of 40 of the Daily Nation. His favourite page of the newspaper was the watchman section and the editorial cartoon by Gado. The newspaper had to be bought. I find myself today reading these sections as well. I am indeed the son of my father.

All through high school, dad attended all the parents' events. It goes without saying that he was always the first to arrive. He would reach the school at 6:30 a.m and sit at the watchman's gate reading the newspaper waiting for the 'school open day' to begin at 8:30 a.m. I was usually finished by 10 a.m. He would then give me the newspaper and some pocket money and tell me that mom would be coming in the afternoon with some food. In retrospect, I really appreciate that he was there for me. Oh yea, dad just loved hanging out with the 'watchie', the 'makaa' guy, the barber and the like. I even think his best friend was our barber, Njagi. He is most remembered by these guys.

Dad would speak to us in English and insisted that it was to be the language of communication in the house. He was fluent and articulate in the language but his Swahili was at best, pathetic. Mom would speak to us in Kikuyu. She didn't care. Dad and Mom would converse in Kikuyu and occasionally switch to English. I blame this upbringing for my poor mastery of the Kikuyu language today. Oh well...

Dad was healthy. By healthy I mean he was quite big. He had this beer belly which I loved to play with. I would put on a pillow under my clothes and start playing with it. He would push me away reluctantly which only made me bump him all the more since I interpreted it to mean that he was enjoying the moment. I look at myself today and my body seems to be going my father's way...

When my mom fell ill dad took care of her in a manner I would never forget. He cooked for her, he woke up early to make breakfast for her and escorted her to the bus stage. Dad could not drive. He had suffered an accident in his younger years which made him develop a phobia for driving. He didn't care much about a car. Anyway, he took care of mom till her last moment. He told me he was there in the ICU on the day my mother died. He was there when the ECG flatlined. He was there for her till the last second. He loved my mother and indeed death is what did them part. I remember that day vividly. I dropped him in town as I went to study for an exam that was scheduled for the next day. I was to pick him up in the evening as I also visited mom. I got a call at 4 p.m. from my uncle that I should meet dad at home and not at the hospital as mom had passed on. Dad gave me a warm hug the minute I entered the gate at home and told me, 'pole'. That moment is forever embellished in my memory.

Dad was not perfect. He made mistakes. Costly mistakes but today I choose to celebrate him rather than condemn him. He was just a man after all and like all men, he struggled. After my mom died, my relationship with dad suffered as he got entangled with one crazy woman who was out to swindle every little penny he had. The less said about this period the better. It all came tumbling down after years of estrangement. Dad fell ill and by God's grace we got reconciled. It was the most demanding 64 days of my life. Dealing with the emotions, forgiveness and then grief was quite tragic for me. Even during the estrangement period, dad would always send me a birthday text. I will miss those messages the most.

I would have loved dad to see his grand kids. They would have definitely enjoyed his computer skills and humour. Death is a sting felt by those who are left. It has been a year and the pain is still raw. It is of great comfort to know that my dad was born-again and as Deitrick Haddon song says, 'I will see him after a while'. On his burial, my tribute for him was a pseudocode that I will leave here as well.

Start()

{

Date of birth: 1953

}

main()

//Checking places he worked for 

for i=1 to 5

{

   for 

       A = Kenya Posts & Tele Corporation (K.P.T.C) , {System Analyst} ,{1977 to 1980}

       B = B.A.T , {Senior Computer Programmer} ,{1980 to 1987}

       C = Tamarind Management Ltd (Carnivore),{Senior Computer Programmer}

       D = {IBM} 

       

}

//Retirement

for (i=1; i<=5; i=i+1)

   {

   for A = December {2003} 

   }

 End Program

{

Date of death: 23rd January, 2014

}

Dad and his classmates in the 70s

Dad and I after graduation-the real TBT

My grandfather and my dad-,my favourite photo

Just dad

Till we meet again dad, rest in peace and do say hi to mom. I miss you both.