Skip to main content

TRIBUTE TO MY FATHER

A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty.-Anonymous




My Dad, Brig. Gen. Foluso Oladele Kusimo (rtd) was, and still is in memory, a strong, intelligent, dedicated, honest and cheerful man. He sacrificed his years doing good for his family, without wanting or expecting anything in return. He set an example to his children for his integrity and loyalty. There wasn't anything my dad wouldn't do to make our lives better. His jovial, loving spirit was remarkable, along with his acceptance of everyone he knew.

My Dad was not a perfect man, he was like all men; flawed and fallible, no one is perfect, but he taught the perfect lessons; He taught you that there were no free meals and that only hard work would reap real long benefits, that short cuts were just what they were…short, that a man without a plan planned to fail, that kindness was a choice and that people would always misread this for weakness, that courage was a necessity, that life didn’t owe you anything, everything you wanted from life had to be earned as he had found out so well growing up, he taught you that laughter was the true medicine to the soul and that a man’s family was his most important legacy.

A man of simple intent who held principles such as honesty, tidiness, order and discipline to be paramount, it’s no surprise how he found his match in the Army, an institution that thrived on those very same qualities. A passionate man, who wore his heart on his sleeve; he wasn’t one to sugarcoat words, he didn’t know how to, and when his heart was full with pride like any proud parent he would erupt with words, he would brag about his children and their accomplishments, he lived for his children-my Dad’s true profession was being a father. He was very fond of us and had nicknames for every one; Baba Oluwole, Princess, Bobo, Afunti, Asolly-be, etc. His personal expressions were hilarious and were truly his: ‘o ti idle ju’ (he could have gotten a patent on this one) ‘Foluwaso!’ (When he’d made a mistake) and now they remain etched in our minds forever.

My Dad had just the right touch of vanity. He was a sharp, conscious dresser. Who always loved to look his best, a comb and face powder were never too far from him, A Neatnik; his handkerchief, shirt and even his underwear were ironed to perfection,  he sometimes reminisced about his famous nickname ‘Kushyfine’ a name he’d earned in his younger days.

My Dad was a Soldier par excellence! Respected for his ability and integrity, a no-nonsense professional who expected the appropriate decorum to be observed inside and outside the home, he often joked ‘I treat my house like a garrison!’ but under the facade of his bravado and tough exterior he had the kindest, softest heart and in his more flippant nature was a truly delightful and witty person to be around, and what of his renowned generosity? A giving man who sacrificed his wants for the needs of others, there were times I believed he was too generous.

A sports enthusiast and aficionado, who played football in his younger days and a fierce squash player in his later years, everything I’ve come to love about sports was from him, always reminding me about the next sporting event, and telling me about the strategies and tactics the onscreen team or person was using ‘Counter attack ni wan gba fun wan’ (They're playing a counter attack), I remember the first football tournament I ever followed-USA ‘94 was with my Dad, we all watched the Super Eagles games in the living room late at night.

I've been proud of my father for my whole life, as long as I can remember but never as proud as in the last few months as he faced overwhelming odds to battle illness so his children could have a dad and his wife, a husband. He did it with such courage and dignity. I like to think we grew much closer as we got older but then I will always feel we still had so much to share and talk about and now I appreciate him even more for sharing his life with me and my siblings.

They say you never actually forget anything, that memories are simply embedded deeper, covered by more recent or stronger ones, it’s funny how true this becomes with the realization that you will never see a loved one again, you remember every moment, every sound, every smell and in those moments even when you’re brokenhearted by the reality that they have left, you remain consoled by those same memories, because they are never truly gone.

Dad, always remember that I’ll always love you and regret not being able to tell you that often, even though you’d just brush it off with that African-man Bravado.

To a man who’s been a light in so many lives, To a man who spent his 73 years in this life being whatever anyone needed at any time, a loving father and husband, He is on his way home after a life well spent. ‘Kushyfine’ is in a better place where there is no pain and he shall rest in the bosom of our Lord, We will continue to cherish the sweet memories you shared with each and every one of us and will continue to keep you in our prayers.

Adieu General.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

THE BETTY-VERONICA CONUNDRUM

Gee, let’s face it gents we’ve all been there, undecided, unable to cut our losses, wondering what the repercussions of making a choice will be, but some even have it harder when that choice means choosing one of two very different, but similarly special women. That being said, a particular young man from Riverdale has had little to worry about for a while now (CW reboot aside), for 78 years Archie Andrews has co-dated or separately dated Betty Cooper and Veronica Lodge at one time or the other - two friends who are as different as their hair colour but share a common desire and fondness for the ginger haired lad. It’s a real head ringer to fathom how given a situation like that, Archie still sucks air, he’s having the best of both worlds and it doesn’t look like it’ll be stopping anytime soon, but then again we don’t share Archie’s perpetual youthfulness or immunity towards aging, so while he’s in no haste to make a life altering decision, we are usually hard pressed for

WHO AM I, AND WHAT AM I DOING HERE?

I have looked into the abyss, and the abyss has looked into me. Neither liked what we saw. - Brother Theodore As I sit in my cubicle, staring at my monitor, hot cup of coffee in hand, looking up the latest business news on Bloomberg, a routine I’ve become accustomed to every working day for some time now, but one I still approach with daily lethargy, my buttoned up collar tightly caressing my neck as though, I’m primed for the hangman. There’s an opaque blandness to all of it and it’s a feeling I am yet to become accustomed to. I feel bereft of purpose here, daily pangs of emptiness plague me, I yearn for more, to feed a passion, to matter, to truly contribute, I yearn…for fulfillment.  I should not be here, I don’t belong here, I feel stifled and that neck tie becomes tighter by the minute, I’m a square peg in a round hole. Like most of my peers I work at a white collar job, earn a decent pay slip  and with some dedication, commitment and a dash of sycophancy  could embrace th

I WAS IN LOVE...ONCE

I'm not one to write about the mushy stuff, never been open to embracing my sentimental side (as I've said before, I'm way too macho for that lol), but I'll allow myself go for the one time (one time for the one time), besides I'm brimming right now and need an outlet; so I write. I always scorned the idea of love, didn't want it, didn't want to see it, not even smell it! Being the cynic I am, the concept of an unconditional devotion seemed a little too far fetched for me, perhaps stemming from a deep rooted fear of commitment, but like most human beings I secretly imagined what it'd be like. I always used to think love was this unstoppable force of nature - that when it hit you, you'd just know, it wouldn't be ignorable, a testament to its larger than life portrayal in the movies and other media I'd filled my head with. And then it happened, perhaps I got sloppy...No!, I allowed it. There were no theme songs, neon lights or firewo