Matt Gedye
Writing Purpose
I was nine when my Dad passed away. He was forty-two. As I’ve grown older, there is much I’ve wanted to ask him. There have been countless times I’ve needed to hear his voice and seek his advice and guidance. This was especially true in my early twenties when I was really struggling with a sense of purpose and direction.
As I’m sitting here now at my laptop, my little boy is sitting in his high chair with a slice of peanut butter toast, smiling at me. He can’t speak with words I recognise yet, but he’s very communicative and babbles constantly. At some point, I’m not going to be around anymore and much like my own experience in requiring access to my Dad’s words, my son may one day need access to mine.
I have plenty of things to remember my Dad. Photos, stories and memories shared by others. People who knew him much longer than I did. These are special for two reasons; first, I love listening to them. Second, they provide a model for me to emulate my own behaviour - to live up the memory of my Dad - an internal compass that helps drive my decisions. Much of this is speculation, however. Because what I don’t have in abundance, are his written words - something tangible to refer to that can give me certainty about how he might have solved a problem. This is not unusual. I think it’s quite uncommon for people to consistently write reflectively. I don’t get despondent by it. There are plenty of people like my Mum or others in my family who can say how my Dad might have approached a situation based on how they remember him and this is often enough to help me through whatever problem I’m trying to solve. But the addition of something tangible, like a few sentences on how he actually worked his way through something would be beyond valuable to me.
For much of my adult life I’ve sought these kinds of answers in non-fiction books. It occurred to me recently though, that were I able to ask my Dad something today, it’s quite likely that he would say something similar to what I might read in one of these books. What then is the difference between reading something in a book compared to reading my Dad’s words? Well, he was my Dad. He was, and always will be, my biggest role model. The words would just hit different. I think a lot of people would resonate with this and my hope is to have this same impact on my son.
My writing therefore, has taken on an added degree of purpose in the last eighteen months. I’m not planning to go anywhere for long time and intend to be around for as long as possible to be there for my son and any other children I might have. But on the other side of the coin, I’ve learnt through experience, the fragility of life and understand the reality that my time may come at any moment. This then serves as a strong incentive to not ‘put it off’ and make sure I’m writing regularly to ensure I’m leaving behind as many useful things as possible that will transcend my physical presence.
P.S What I’m doing now.