Lesson Three: Dad Will Always Come To The Rescue No Matter How Embarrassing.

Lesson 3: Dad will always come to the rescue  - no matter how embarrassing.

My Father is going to have a lot of pages written in his honour because he has had a huge impact on my life. The old lady and he split up a few times but by about the time I was 12 she’d gone for good. It was a blessing for us all even though she left Dad with a very broken heart and much emptier bank account.

If you’ve had the luxury of having your Mum around when you got your period and went through “Those changes” – you’re very lucky. I was scared when I got my period and despite my older sister Michelle and I not being very close, I had no choice but to tell her because I was so scared and mystified. I got home and she gave me some of her pads with a stern, “You’ll have to get your own Tarshie because I don’t have enough for both of us”. I  made her promise NOT to tell Dad.

I was hiding in the basement when I heard Dad come home. I’d  only been there about five minutes when I hear the front door open and Dad’s slippers making their way towards me. I was hanging out with our dog Duke pretending to discipline him when Dad gets closer, stands there with his cup of tea and smoke in his mouth and goes, “So Tarshie, your sister tells me you’ve got your period”. I was mortified. Who says that? I just sat there saying nothing and Dad, not sensing my  absolute embarrassment or desire for him to piss off goes, “So Tarshie, come on, you can’t sit here all day, let’s go and get you some womanly things”.

So we get in the car, Dad’s wearing his stubbies, long socks, slippers and t-shirt, chain-smoking as we get to Guy’s Pharmacy in Roselands Shopping Centre and I cringe. The Pharmacy was owned by the parents of a rich kid in my class – and sure enough his Mother is working there.  We walk right up to the counter, Dad puffs, blows out some smoke and goes, “Gidday, this is my daughter Natasha, she just got her period, could you please help her get what she needs”, throws $20 on the counter and walks out to wait in the car.

Mrs Guy walks me over to the sanitary pads and explains the difference between deoderised and plain pads…anyway we grab three packs, she throws them into a brown paper bag for me and I pay her.  It was a weird feeling, I was grateful I had what I needed but it felt like a bad dream, only tipped off by Dad saying as I got back into the car, “Jesus, is that all the change I got”.

And to this day Dad retells that story because as he saw it, that was him raising two girls without a Mother, and doing a sterling job.