My dad was an extraordinary man. Despite his very modest background, he ended up famous for his many accomplishments. Some may even say he possessed magical powers. A modern dad, incredibly rich and I am so proud of being able to say I am his daughter.
Today it has been 15 years exactly that the world lost this amazing man. Yet, my dad will not pop up in any Google search. No laudable obituary will be found. You will not see pictures of him on any webpage. You will not read his name in history books. No building, park or street is named after him.
I want to somewhat repair that injustice with this article.
My dad’s job in the dredging industry took him to work in the four corners of the world, meeting people of all kinds of nationalities and backgrounds, making many friends along the way. Yet he only spoke one language: Sliedrechts. It’s basically Dutch with some words pronounced in a (seemingly) English way.
Though away from home a lot he never once failed to get me a birthday present on my birthday itself, be it in the form of a telegram (Scheveningen Radio!), a card or a present bought and delivered by a colleague. Imagine the organisational skills that takes!
And then his magical powers, oh my! I remember I was hospitalized at the age of 12. Sadly his work made it impossible for him to visit me every day, but he promised me he would “send me a sign” to prove I was in his thoughts. “Just look out your window at 5 o’clock”. Impatiently I was already in front of the window at 4.30 together with other patients. And just when everybody thought I was telling tales, my patience got rewarded at 5 sharp. The sky lit up as he pointed his vessel’s powerful light beam straight up. He did so every day I was in the hospital, making me the hero of the hospital department.
My dad’s job wasn’t without hazard and during the course of his career he lost one and a quarter of his fingers. The freaky magic tricks he liked to play in front of small kids!
If you would browse through the family photo albums you would typically spot my dad as the person carrying the bags (yep, that would be plural with a wife and 3 daughters…). He was gallant that way. But mind you, he was not a macho. He was way ahead of his time and when at home he fully participated in the household life. I have tender memories of him making our beds whilst humming “Like a virgin” (he always made sure he was aware of the latest hits), preparing our breakfast and lunch packages, riding his bike for 30 min through the rain because I forgot to bring it to school…
Although not lean, my dad’s bank account was not exactly one of a millionaire either. He certainly spoiled us, but also made sure we knew the value of money. The question “Dad, can I have this?” was often responded with “Sure! When the ship with dimes arrives”. So he was certainly not rich in that sense.
But his account at the life bank was undeniably and abundantly filled with love and huge respect from his wife, children, family, friends and colleagues.
My dad was an ordinary man. But what he represented to us who knew him, made him extraordinary. His love, his kindness, his friendship, his life lessons…. THAT is his legacy and it will live on forever through us, his family and his friends, and those who follow after us as we pass it on.
Arie VENIS
10 April 1943 – 1 February 2004