Confessions of a loving daughter, part 1

I lost my dad last year July, and there will be many memories I will have over the next few months. However I wanted to share some of the things that I did for my dad and how happy these made me. Happy thoughts only.

Dad passed away from Pancreatic cancer. However before that he had larygenal cancer and had to have his voice box removed in February 2016. He took what was an incredibly hard time with magnanimous grace and courage. Love you dad. Thank you for showing me the way.

The last words he said to me in his old voice were “I love you girl” the first words he said in his new voice 4 months later were “I love you darling” that was the man he was.

He had surgery for the cancer on the 17th February 2016. The 3rd of February 2016 my cheeky ass was booking him a holiday to Rome because he was a Methodist Minister and had always wanted to see the Vatican.

This is the story of God having abundant mercy on my ass.

God’s miracle 1 was me having the idea and actually getting enough people behind me to execute it. I convinced my ex, and my mum and I had just gotten a new job and that was how I was planning to pay for it. I’d never had an idea like that before. We’d not been abroad as a family since I was 16 to visit my elder brother. We’d never actually been on a “Holiday, holiday” we went to Butlin’s when I was 7 and outings, but not an actual explore another country holiday.

Not only was I cheeky enough to book it before his surgery (the British airways sale ended that day which meant we got the hotel and flights for a 5 night trip for £1,600 for 4 people) The fact that Rome was on sale that year (they put different countries and regions on sale each year) which allowed me to afford it was God’s grace number 1. Number 2 was me booking it before he’d even gone under the knife.

Gods grace number 3 was a big one. My mum keeping quiet for 6 months. My parents had the kind of relationship where if one sneezes at work, they tell the other. But the holiday gave my mum hope and when I’d go visit my parents we’d go straight to the kitchen and “Connive” about the trip. It was a source of hope in a dark time. My mum managed to pack a whole bag for my dad in the guest room bearing in mind dad needed a nebuliser and all sorts of care and pills after his radiotherapy, and he was none the wiser. This allowed it to be a surprise trip (somewhat, my mum told dad I was taking him “walking” she failed to mention that it was out of the country.)

God’s grace number 4 was the one I’m most proud of. It had cost me the most I’d ever spent on a holiday outside of my honeymoon and I had 0 dollars to get my dad upgraded. So, for the first and only time in my life, I rang a big corporate and asked for special treatment. I asked for a route to take in Terminal 5 that would mean that there would be regular seats because dad had just come out of radiotherapy, and I asked for extra legroom for dad on both flights. They obliged. And when dad was on the flight the attendants made a real fuss over him and made him feel special. I was so proud of my handiwork. I remember telling my dad about it afterwards and he smiled in a “Na so E for be” way. Creole for “That’s how its meant to be” Yes, darling daughter. Well done for making extra fuss over me when taking me on a trip of a lifetime. I do deserve it. Not in an arrogant way, but in simply acknowledgement of his hard work that he put into me over the years.  “Manifesting” coaches will call this an example of “ deliberate creation” Where you create your reality. He was so calm in himself, it meant that good things flowed to him. He knew in his heart he’d been a wonderful father to me and that he deserved this.

Gods miracle number 2 was money- My elder brother sent $50 for spending money. (Dad was A LOT more expensive than $50 but I appreciated the effort. Dad did too.) The reason it was God’s miracle was that prior to that I had no actual relationship with either brother I have 2 half brothers. It was the first time I’d called either of them. I called one after the other in February and told them my plan, told them it was a secret and asked them if they had any holiday money to contribute, that way it would be a trip paid for by all dad’s children rather than just me. Not that if it was just me it would be less special, but somehow, if it was all 3 of us it would be even more special. Both agreed to contribute. Only one did. It did add a certain specialness to the trip because prior to that, that brother had never ever bought dad a birthday gift, sent a card for his birthday, or Christmas. Neither had. So it was the first time that my elder brother would do anything for dad. First of 3. Rome was the first one. Dad’s last birthday, almost a year before he passed and finally looking after dad in his final days. 40 year relationship. 15 years as a proper adult. He cared for his father 3 times. Which beats the 0 times that the eldest one cared for dad.

Then there was God’s miracle 3. We left for Rome on a Sunday. On the Thursday I paid for travel insurance for my parents. Because dad had just had radiotherapy, I had to buy specialist travel insurance. I remember where I was with incredible clarity when the question said. “aside from the above, has the person been hospitalised in the last 6 months?” I clicked no. My dad was hospitalised on the Saturday for low calcium levels, we were leaving on the Sunday. Luckily they discharged him later that day. He was hospitalised because he wasn’t eating. He wasn’t eating because radiotherapy on his neck had disturbed his tastebuds and everything tasted “like cardboard” also because he was meant to eat lots of salmon and broccoli which were high calcium foods, and he hated those 2 before cancer, let alone afterwards.

God’s Grace 5 was beautiful. I was given the immense privilege of telling dad at 10:30pm that we were going to Rome the next day. He was in his PJ’s. he’d gone to bed, we were hours late because of the mess up with receiving my brothers money. But I got to tell him I was doing this for him “because I love you.” In the middle of the trip was his birthday. But it wasn’t a birthday present. (I gave him £30 for his birthday because after shelling out £2,000 for a holiday I was poor. I kind of regret not giving him the extra £20 to make it £50, because he deserved it.) The most important thing was it was a way of showing that I love you dad. My love language is acts of service and gifts. Words of affirmation it sure as hell is not. I really struggled, after so much planning after so much love and care went into this trip to say. “I’m doing this because I love you” because he should know how much I love him. I showed him everyday in the care, concern (after his surgery in February 2016 I didn’t sleep until June 2020 because I was worried about my dad suffocating due to his surgery) In all the love I showed him, I didn’t need a trip to Rome to say I cared. The location wasn’t random. All my life he’d said he wanted to go to Rome and see the Vatican. The joke is, when he was recovering, I’d tease him and ask him where he’d like to holiday next and that one summer he said “Germany” I’d made a mental note to take him there for his 75th, but he’s forever 71. But the important thing is I got to say it. Not many people get to actually express their feelings for another person, I did. Better yet. I filmed it so I could send it to my brother, who wanted to be part of the moment. It’s a moment I treasure. I actually saw the video yesterday scrolling through my phone, on the 13th August 2016. The moment I got to tell dad “I love you.” In his birthday card I remember writing “You deserve all this and more,” I needed to tell him that I loved him. I was lucky. I said it several times and I got a few other big occasions to say the words and to truly have him feel them. As a result, when dad died and I visit his grave, I’m never standing over him thinking. “I wish I’d done more. Taken him to Rome, Taken him on a cruise, taken him out just because, spent time with him.

God’s miracle number 4 was just as beautiful as God’s Grace 5 if not more so. We travelled to Heathrow on Sunday morning, landed in Rome Sunday afternoon safely. Took a taxi to our hotel in Aurelia, Took a taxi and then took a nap. We then had dinner in the hotel restaurant. Dad, having been in hospital the day before for low iron levels and refusing to eat ate a 3 course meal. Yep. My diabetic dad even had ice cream for dessert. Its miraculous what the words “your daughter is paying for a holiday” can do for a man’s appetite. This here is a very important lesson and I’m sorry its buried so deep in the post. West African parents are expensive and I spent the next 5 days running after my dad with my wallet open. He was living his best life like the Queen of England. Because he’d not organised the trip, he had no money. So it was me and mum running around paying. I remember by the time of his birthday on the 17th we were BROKE! Bearing in mind we’d arrived the 14th afternoon. And we had a Vatican tour the next day. B-R-O-K-E! Anyway. The next part of the miracle was after dad had revived himself with 3 courses of Italian food, the next day we walked. We walked for 6 hours with only an ice cream stop in the middle. We wandered from Palace du Pulpo to the Spanish steps, Trevin fountain Triumph palace and finally ending up in the Colosseum. The Smith’s did Rome in a day. What was most miraculous was dad had gone from a fragile man in his PJ’s on Saturday night to a tall, proud man living his best life on Monday morning. I was 24 and he was walking AHEAD of me. He was 2 days off 68. He’d regained the stature of the man I remember as a small child. So tall, so vibrant. (my dad always walked “like a young man” with a certain bounce to his step.) My favourite memories of the entire trip are of the back of his head. Because he was leading us all, walking faster than us all, he had no actual idea where he was going, he had a small map, but he was leading his family with a childlike wonder of a 5 year old in Disneyland. There was nothing on his mind other than walking the sunlit streets. He walked with the vigour and vitality of a man 1/3 his age and I loved it. It brought me so much joy that I could give him that experience. The experience of wonderment when he’d spent 9 months in pain, mental and physical.  

God’s Grace 6 was the a moment the next day. We went back to the collesuem and walked around it. We talked about history just like when I was a small child. Then, we decided to eat a meal in the restaurant nearby. My mum asked the waiter, what was on the menu, he said “Mostly pizza and pasta.” “Those are my dad’s least favourite foods” My mum replied, yet my dad ate his fill as if nothing was wrong with him. He ate full breakfasts each day at the hotel and full meals the whole trip. But the moment I speak of was when I was sitting next to him in the restaurant outside the collesuem, and I put my head on his shoulder like a small child. It was wonderful and it meant the world to me. To be honest I’d have paid the £2,000 for just that moment, but someone else thought it was beautiful and took a picture of it. #blackhugsmatter. It was one of the photos we put in the order of service at my dad’s funeral.

God’s Grace moment 7 was dad’s birthday. 17th of August. After eating a hearty breakfast, we sang happy birthday to him and I presented him with not 1 but 2 cards. This is literally a family first remember. Neither of my brothers had ever given my dad a card, a present or anything their entire lives. (I paid for the card but that wasn’t the point) We recorded the moment of dad receiving  £30 from me, and a card telling him how much I love him. WE also recorded the first of 2 presents my dad would ever receive from his son. The other present was on my dad’s last ever birthday. Dad got 40 euros from my elder brother Charlie. The first time ever he “saw the colour of his son’s money.” It was a moment not to be underestimated. The recording is especially beautiful because you see my dad comprehending for the first time the love that went into this trip. There was a certain disbelief with the first video. Not because he thought I’d show up at 10:30pm at night to his bedroom to lie to him, but as a family, this was never our style. We’d never done big gestures before. We showed love in the little things. So he couldn’t understand why I would do something like this. But in the second video you see him surrounded by the reality of what happened and he truly understands that it. So he says. “thank you” in a different way. Its one of real love and appreciation. Not confusion and wonderment. We went to the Vatican the next day and he went as if he were a 25 year old. He decided to rest on his birthday and we had a beautiful family dinner. Remember me telling you how I was broke by his birthday? His birthday we’d given him the equivalent of 75 euros. So guess who was rich the rest of the trip?  My brother contributing truly meant the world to him. Dad bought a Colosseum and a statue of Jesus and Mary in the Vatican with the money Clarence gave him. The value of those souvenirs was such that when he came home, those were the souvenirs that went on the centre of the mantlepiece. One of the many tidbits I bought dad also went on the mantlepiece. On the side. I don’t hate it. It was a standout moment for my brother Charlie and it was hugely significant. Just like the prodigal son, my dad wanted to walk into his living room and think “my son bought me that” it didn’t mean he didn’t love what I bought him, it just meant that having 2 of your 3 kids come through for you when you are used to it only being one made it that much more special. The last day we wrapped up Rome by seeing everything we hadn’t seen on the other days. We had a wonderful time. When we got home he was so happy. “God bless you,” he would mouth. I felt that in my bones. I feel the power of the blessing he gave me to this day. The sad thing about Rome was that even though it was a beautiful trip filled with Beautiful memories, my dad had less than 5 years to live after that date. August 2016, he died July 2021. He didn’t get to share with me his thoughts on Rome 5 years afterwards. He’d already been buried.

God’s miracles 5. I don’t think I have at any point underlined quite how sick my dad actually was. After showing strength and vigour that would make a young man proud each day he went back to the hotel room and spent an hour on a nebuliser, something to help him breathe. We had adjoining rooms and I would hear it humming when we’d retire to our rooms. I made a scrapbook of our time there the following Father’s Day and it was then I realised how sick he was back then. He’d finished radiotherapy in June. We’d gone in mid August. We were originally going to go in June, but British Airways (read God) made the week of his birthday £300 cheaper than the week of UK Father’s day. So we delayed. Which was fortuitous because dad actually finished his radiotherapy the week before UK Father’s day. He’d have been truly exhausted and completely unable to enjoy the trip. He was actually really ill, his birthday that year marked 6 months since his surgery on February 17th and less than 2 months since his radiotherapy ended. He was very much still in recovery and because it was Laryngeal cancer, his radiotherapy was done on his neck, his neck swelled up. He didn’t have a fat neck. His neck, like mine is long and graceful with a defined jaw. You could really see how sick he was back then and yet he had the best time. For which I thank God.

Miracle 6 was the weather. This trip was designed to give us hope, all 3 of us and as a result I couldn’t imagine the weather being raining, or even cloudy. So it was the most magnificent blue skies that I had ever seen in my life, for the whole trip. I’d grown up in rainy old England and Cloudy London to be specific. I’d never seen such azure blue ever and it will live with me forever. No trip will ever compare to Rome because it was the first and only proper holiday abroad we ever took. As a result the sky was almost magical to me.

As you can see, it was a trip that built incredible memories based on some daring on my part. I dared to dream. And I will always have those memories. I thank God for the strength, joy and grace my dad showed throughout the trip. Also shoutout to my mum for helping me, running around paying for stuff and loving my dad in the way she did that empowered him to be himself. She made this trip possible as much as I did and I can’t thank her enough for it. I love you mum. Just as much as I love dad. So the lesson here is. Give something back to your parents once in a while it doesn’t need to be material. The joy and memories you’ll have as a result will live with you for a lifetime (Disclaimer,  West African parents are expensive so please don’t do this with money unless you actually have the money to spend. They like nice things 😊) Flights and hotel £1,600. Taxi to airport £60. Spending money (don’t ask). Memories: Priceless.

Grace and Courage

Annetta Mother-Smith.