Who says my dad didn't to anything for me

This morning I was 'out back', smoking, when my eye fell on the weird table my dad gave me.

It must have been over a decade ago or longer but he insisted that he had made a table for me, to help with braais.

When he battled to get this unwieldy top heavy table out of the car, I didn't have the heart to say anything. I just thanked him and kept the ugly thing. 

The table was narrow and tall. 

Four long skinny steel legs, set on roller casters. This gave it a very high center of gravity, and was I was afraid it would prone to tipping over. (even though that, admittedly hasn't happened yet) 

The roller casters at each leg made sure it didn't tip over, because it was usually running away on uneven floors.

Each steel leg was neatly welded to the table corners and they were too long and as there was no cross bracing the legs were fragile and I feared someday they would warp. But they didn't. 

Over a decade later. Here it stands. Exactly as it was when it was built.

I was over-critical of the design and really didn't give it much thought.

Looking back now I see it for what it was.

My father was reaching out to me.

Giving me the only thing he had to give.

His fancy pants son would not appreciate money or gifts, but the fruit of his labour, that was something any smart person would appreciate.

Except some smart people don't get it at once. Some times it takes a decade or two, but we get there.

M Parak 

June 2020