When I think of memorable people it doesn’t take long for my thoughts to drift to my father; to the outside observer he is by no means exceptional but I hope tell you what makes him exceptional to me.

He is a stout man, not fat but stocky for his size due of body building in his twenties. As a result, he stands as a powerful man in presence and you can feel the residual strength from when he was in his physical prime; his calves especially, bulging and taut as a hallmark of intrinsic might. His hair his simple; a short buzz cut and a goatee that has adorned his head for almost 25 years. Although silver flecks are beginning to show, the clockwork nature of his appearance means they go almost unnoticed. Teeth and skin also remain impervious to the ebb of life; when I see distant photographs of my father his teeth shine with a pearlescent glow and his skin is sleek and free of imperfections, something which is still true today. Whenever I pass him the smell of his favourite cologne is always gently redolent; it serves as an olfactory reminder of everything that embodies him.

My father’s clothes are always simple: utilitarian trousers to aid him in his many physical endeavours and a plain t-shirt, inexpensive and understated. Every now and then, as a sign of affection to friend or family, he will adorn himself with minor decorations; a beaded wristband in memory of a family outing, a shirt emblazoned with my sister’s favourite cartoon character or a hat embellished with the logo of his favourite video game.

He is a philanthropic individual who’s interests are rarely his own; If a favour is asked of him his response is utterly selfless. His needs come before any of the family members, but when he does allow himself the opportunity to delve into his hobbies and interests the passion he evokes is mesmerizing. In a brief moment he can go from the stoic man who strives to do anything that is required of him, to a humble individual pouring over every facet of what he loves to do. He is enchanted by the world as it stands and this shows in his activities; the stoic man is exhibited at the bank of the river as he waits for a bite on his line. Again, when the line jumps and the glossy spectacle is pulled ashore, the ardent man is displayed.

Never has there been a man of whom I know so much about and have so many semantic memories and associations with; I am almost certain this will always be so.