Lisa Frederickson reflects on her father-daughter relationship with her Dad, a proud gay ally, and how they navigated his Alzheimer’s together
BY LISA FREDERICKSON
“If I were gay, I’d have gone for Elvis!” I’ll always treasure those words – my dad’s delightfully rock ‘n’ roll response to my coming out in 2006. I remember it well. Gnarls Barkley was playing, and I was at a work party, high on vodka, Red Bull and dreading the call from dad. It was our “follow-up” chat post dramatic revelation that I, his precious daughter, was attracted to women. Gulp!
My Nokia buzzed. I picked up…
“Hello, Dad?”
“Your worries end here, my girl,” he buoyantly assured. ‘I love you, and this doesn’t change a thing.”
That was one of the best moments of my life. With every word, I felt that awful knot in my stomach slacken and my heart thump with relief. I felt free. Accepted. Loved. So, that’s my dad.
I feel like I’ve won the lottery with him. He’s backed me at every stage – from dodgy perms, career choices and partners. Both the suitable and unsuitable. For a man of his generation, Dad is refreshingly open-minded. He was born in 1932, when homosexuality was punishable by a prison sentence and chemical castration. Luckily, Dad was more enlightened. He has always been an ally. Freddie Mercury is his favourite singer, and his best friend is a gay, ex-electrician called Keith. “I love that man – but not in a gay way!” Keith is suitably relieved.
As time goes on, our father-daughter bond only gets stronger, and as Dad turns 94, we find ourselves in uncharted waters. Dad was sadly diagnosed with dementia two years ago. It’s like being knocked over by a huge wave that is hard to get up from.
Our roles have reversed. I’m looking out for him now. I take him out, help him tie his shoes, to which he laughs, “This is what they mean by family ties!” Yep, his short-term memory might be atrocious, but the man can still deliver a good dad joke. And recite poems…
This passion for poetry is something else I thank him for. Most people’s fathers teach them to ride a bike, kick a ball, or hammer a nail. Mine did too, but he also sat me down with a book of poems and said, “Listen to this – it’s about a daffodil, but it’s not really about a daffodil”. At the time, I thought he’d had too many brown ales. But somewhere between Kipling’s, If, and some highly amusing limericks, something magical happened – I got hooked on poetry!
“Poetry is how we make sense of our hearts,” he told me. It doesn’t have to be confined to dusty, old books. It lives in that bar of sunlight through the window, twilight beach strolls and in laughter shared over the washing up.
So, with his Alzheimer’s diagnosis, I wanted to honour him, so we set about pulling together some of our own poems – Poems By Dad & Me. It’s an unruly smorgasbord of verse swinging from romantic to ridiculous, wistful to wicked. A bit like us, really.
We’re so proud of our little book, most of all because it’s ours. And although dementia has cruelly entered our story, we still have our poems and each other. And to us, that’s, well, just poetic…
Poetry is their family superglue: a quiet anchor, a secret handshake better than dad dancing and sweeter than homemade apple crumble. Poems By Dad & Me is a poetry collection for anyone who has ever found comfort in a poem – or called a stanza home.
Witty, poignant, and full of heart, this father-daughter anthology celebrates what it is to be alive, the magic of words and the lyrical threads that bind generations. In short: A dad and daughter, united by their love of verse – and a perfectly brewed cup of tea.
Available on Amazon on 25 May. E-book and paperback. Half of all profits will be donated to Alzheimer’s Society UK. Please support a great cause and make a 94-year-old man very happy.
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