Allez Gauw

Even though I very rarely get to speak Flemish any more, Flemish words and phrases I remember from growing up,often pop up in my mind. When I get a feeling of being somewhat  discouraged, I find myself saying quietly, but out loud, "allez, gauw". This translates into the equivalent of "come on now". When I catch myself doing this, I can't help but smile. After 37 years in the US, I still have these little linguistic tics. Interesting. My father had a wicked sense of humour, and was a great story and joke teller. I remember bits and pieces of his jokes and they will come to me, at seemingly unpredictable intervals, and bring him to life again, if only in an emotional way. One of my favorite sayings of his is " da gebeurt me de slimste est, moar me de dommste meest." Translated from the Flemish dialect to " this sort of thing happens to smart people too, but mostly to stupid people." He would often say that whenever we as kids complained about some minor mishap that befell us. If he saw a heavy chested woman, and this is before the days of sexual harassment, he would say : " Ze zoeden beeter flechen op eur zetten, vo accidenten te  voyrkommen." Meaning : " They should put blinkers on her, to prevent crash injuries ". As kids, we would roar, as his humour tended to be a bit off color, or at least socially dubious. Once when he noticed a couple with a large number of what he deemed very unattractive children, he quipped : " Zen d'este drie moeten weg smyten." We were blushing with guilty embarrassment, as this translates to " They had to throw their first three kids away", implying how awfully ugly the first attempts were. Of course, as an eight year old, you had no idea that daddy was out of line, you just laughed thinking that was the most awfully funny thing you ever heard. I remember him having friends over at our house roaring laughing with one of his pranks or stories, that often had a starting point in a real anecdote, as he traveled a lot and was around a lot of people all the time. Switching tea out for coffee at hotel lobbies was a favorite trick of his, as was changing the sugar packets for salt ones in restaurants. Changing the breakfast orders hung outside hotel rooms, switching the shoes left outside the rooms, just sent him into a tizzy of mischievous delight. In those  moments, he seemed to be someone separate from the dad we knew him as, he became one of us, it was very compelling. Those memories of the mischievous part of his nature stuck. They are still with me, often on darker days, when my spirits need a lift, and I remember one of his hilarious risque phrases or pranks. Allez gauw, come on now, things will be allright, right, papa?