4 Things I Learned From My Dad (Hint: It Involves Champagne and a Wardrobe)
My Dad died over Christmas, and as you can imagine, it’s been a time of grief, reflection, and eleventy-billion-resulting-jobs adjustment.
I wasn’t sure whether to write about this, but the truth is, my Dad shaped so much of who I am, and I wanted to share a few of the things he taught me - lessons that continue to shape how I move through the world. Also, if I didn’t write about him, I’m fairly sure he’d find a way to haunt me, shaking his head at my lack of ‘follow-through.’ 👻🤣
1. Everything is figureoutable
Long before Marie Forleo turned this into a catchphrase, my Dad was taking on life’s challenges with aplomb. He had an unshakable belief that any problem could be solved with a bit of thought (and a lot of stubbornness). Case in point: the beautiful wardrobe he and my Mum made (yes, they made all our furniture. I know, right?) Having lovingly handcrafted it over a number of weeks, they discovered (wait for it…..) it didn’t fit up the stairs to their bedroom 🤣 When faced with the impossible task of getting a full-sized wardrobe up a staircase that was clearly not designed with such ambitions in mind, most people would have admitted defeat. Not my Dad. He saw it as a challenge - one that involved sawing all their hard work in half, ropes, pulleys, and a fair amount of swearing. But, against all logic, that wardrobe made it upstairs, proving once and for all that brute determination and physics-defying optimism can achieve great things.
Then there was the time he took a wooden puzzle - one of those intricate, brain-melting contraptions designed to test the limits of human patience - and decided the best way to solve it was to write a computer program to crack the code (he was a super-early adopter of computers, building his first when I was 4. I swear he learned to code purely so he could hack into games and give himself infinite lives…👾) Hours days later, he had the solution printed out, victorious not just over the puzzle, but over anyone who dared suggest he should ‘just try moving the pieces around a bit.’
Recently, someone told me I’m the ‘most emotionally stable person they know’ (clearly, they’ve never seen me sobbing over a Golden Buzzer on America’s Got Talent). I was thinking how I got this way, and I credit growing up in a drama-free home in which every challenge was simply something that needed figuring (or riding) out. My Dad never told me this in words - he just lived it every single day. And I grew into a woman who knows that I can rise to any challenge, whether that’s fixing the broken toilet seat (PENDING!) or being half blind for a year.
2. Celebrate the difficult times as well as the good
When I was a teenager, my spine decided to take a scenic route, otherwise known as scoliosis. I spent years in pain until I could finally have surgery, followed by a long rehab - all while attempting to pass my GCSEs with a back that resembled a question mark.
When I started sixth form, I struggled. The time off had knocked me sideways (literally and figuratively), and I absolutely loathed my subject choices. After much internal wrestling, I made the reluctant decision to go down a year, start over, and study something I actually liked. And I felt like a total failure.
But the moment I made that decision, my Dad - who had clearly anticipated this existential teenage meltdown - pulled out a bottle of champagne he’d stashed away, poured us both a glass, and toasted me for having the guts to make a tough call.
That was my Dad: teaching me that what looks like ‘failure’ is often just a plot twist. That growth is messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes requires a reset. And that some moments - especially the hard ones - deserve a proper celebration (preferably with bubbles).
3. Know your standards, and hold yourself and others accountable to them
My Dad had an unshakable belief that things should be done properly - whether that was a job well done, a promise kept, or, most famously, the art of complaining. If something wasn’t up to scratch, he wouldn’t just grumble about it - he would compose an absolutely legendary letter of complaint, complete with wit, logic, and often a good dose of dramatic flair. No generic ‘Dear Sir/Madam’ nonsense - oh no, he made it personal. And effective.
Classic Dad story: my Dad’s name was David. Not Dave. Never Dave. So when a colleague kept calling him ‘Dave’ despite multiple corrections, my Dad did what any reasonable person would do - he started writing all his emails with the ‘i’s’ and ‘d’s’ replaced by ‘e’s’🤣. Suffice to say, the chap started calling him David before long!
This was his way of teaching boundaries - knowing what matters, standing by it, and expecting the same from others.
4. Take joy in life’s simple pleasures
Not everything has to be grand or extraordinary. My dad found deep contentment in the everyday - he never passed up a chance to turn his face to the sun. He worked incredibly hard as we grew up, long hours and an epic commute. But he always had time for a barbecue (even in the middle of winter - I wouldn’t be surprised if he holds the world record for ‘most number of bbqs in a lifetime’), a walk in nature, curiosity, making, reading, chatting…
Sometimes we’re so focussed on the future, what we want to achieve, what we don’t have…that we forget to take pleasure in the things right in front of us.
These lessons feel even more precious now, and I find myself thinking about how they show up in my own life - sometimes in ways that make me laugh at how much like him I’ve become.
So, I’d love to ask you:
What’s something your dad (or another significant male figure in your life) taught you?
A piece of wisdom, a way of seeing the world, something they did that still sticks with you?
Let me know at hello@changefoundry.org.uk - I’d truly love to hear. Bonus points if it involves a ridiculous but endearing Dad-ism that still makes you laugh today 😄
