When my late father had his watch & clock business in Cape Town, he sometimes bartered with a customer for watch or clock repairs or restoration work. I was about 10 years old when on one occasion he accepted a Sunday afternoon outing with his family on the customer’s yacht in Table Bay harbor. I grew up in Cape Town so I loved the sea, and for once this barter did not involve dismembering a farm animal before being packaged into various freezer bags, or worse, being invited for lunch : sheep brains casserole.
The day arrived and the weather was perfect – a clear African blue sky and breathless. We all climbed down the dock ladder into the little boat that would take us to the yacht. It was close enough that all was needed was to pulley the little boat using the suspended rope, from the dock to the yacht, as it descended towards the water surface, a mere 5-10 meters. My dad took charge and grabbed hold of the rope & began pulleying us like an aquatic cable car. About half way, the boat glided ahead of his frame, suspending him more over the water than he was the boat. It was the only time I’d ever seen him gripped by fear. Even when he was diagnosed with cancer, with its reoccurrence, and his final days in hospice did I ever see that expression again.
Months, or possibly years, later I found out that my dad couldn’t swim. And yet he wanted to do that Sunday outing involving a yacht! Why? For us to experience a yacht when we couldn’t afford to hire or own one? For him and Mom to have a break from being home from home freezer food packaging? Maybe. But I do know that everything he did, he did to create experiences for us – his girls.
Thank you, Dad for this memory of embracing life, in spite of ‘what if’s’.
Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory. Dr Seuss
