12 Month Challenge- Ancestors- My Father

Many Pagan paths choose to honor the ancestors in one way or another. The question is how well do you know your own ancestors? Pick some one from your Family tree and write a short biography about them.

Hmm, I do not honour all of my ancestors, as they were not all close to me, there really would be no point in my opinion, just like there is no point to hanging around family members who are destructive, impolite, and who treated you like crap, or having an intimate dinner with cousins you haven’t seen since you were 8. I could write about my granddad, but I do not know anything besides how I knew him as a child, except that his father was Irish. So I’ll write on my Father…

My father was born on 26 June 1956, and was a rather rebellious young man. He had used drugs socially and although he matriculated he didn’t go to university. He rode motor-bikes and was pretty much a metal/rocker/hippy type of man. He met my mother when they were working at a bank, he eventually became a manager. He took my mom to many concerts where my mother got to see Iron Maiden. My father was 33 when I was born, my mom 22. The marriage was rocky from the beginning, as my father had many demons, that he had not yet learnt to deal with. When he lost his father, things got worse and my parents got divorced. My father had another child by another woman, I haven’t seen my sister since he died four years ago. My father still had many demons to handle and he left the mother of my sister. My father had battled alcoholism for his whole life, but changed until another woman entered his life. He left her and stopped drinking, stopped smoking but too late, as he already had the first stages of emphysema. He died on February 9, 2008, a week after I started University.

My father was a man who loved literature, and he was very pleased when I decided to take English Literature as one of my majors. He wished to support me in whatever I felt passionate about and always encouraged my art and poetry. He was a man who loved music, especially rock and metal, and he kept his promise to leave me his music collection when he died. I now listen to his music and think of him, not only the good times, but the sad and ugly times to, because then he stays real to me, a human, as fallible as us all.

He was a man who loved riding motorbikes so much he bought two and had one as a teen. He belonged to the Harley Davidson bike runs, and started a Harley pub with a few other people. He took me on my first charity bike run, and took me to see the drag racers at one of the skid-pads.

He was a private man, not letting his thoughts come to the surface often, and at times he came off as aloof. He had frown lines in the middle of his brow. I am developing the same frown lines.

He liked to give advice, and the best times I had with him, were when it was just me and him. He took me to concerts as a child and battle of the bands. He also took me to see Metallica.

My father was into sports, he played cricket and hockey, and won many a trophy for both.

My father watched many a movie and always identified with the “bad guy”, I have too, come to appreciate many a villain.

My father grew up Catholic but became more into New-age philosophies before he died, he had never had an issue with me becoming interested in witchcraft and bought me “Wicca: A guide for the Solitary Practitioner” by Scott Cunningham.

He loved to write but never completed his book. He was always proud of me and wanted me to complete my degree which I did.

I always remember him reading the newspaper on a couch by a window, with a cup of coffee.

It is with coffee that I honour him in circle, I would make his favourite dish to make (Hawaain Chicken) if I still ate chicken, but a good macaroni and cheese goes down well.

I talk to him through these motivational cards he had, they always say something like “The change is you”, or “The possibilities are infinite”, it was like the advice and talks he always gave to me…

 

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