Drawings: Dad’s Love Language is Not Mine

Real talk about the lesson our differences taught me

Illustration by the author

I’m the eldest and most responsible child.

I’ve just come back from Europe and if you’ve had the privilege to do that 30hr flight (from New Zealand), you know there’s a lot of time to reflect.

I’ve been thinking of my time with dad throughout my life, what stories to share here. Whether to recall the countless times he picked me up in the middle of the night as a teenager, when my car had broken down on the side of the road or after a party in whop whops. Or the early mornings standing in a paddock watching me ride my pony in various shows, even though he wasn’t known for being a morning person.

But no, upon reflection, I felt called to share a major lesson and blessing that he gifted me over our time together…

Illustration by the author

You see, I was the creative child born to a father who was an engineer. As a teenager, I would take meditation classes or hang crystals around my room. And he would help me with my calculus homework and teach me to drive in the library car park.