As I stare at the computer thinking about what to write about my father for Fatherís Day, a sea of memories comes crashing back to me. I never realized the amount of things my dad has done for me until this moment. He has been there to witness the majority of my biggest moments.
Unlike my mother and me, my father isnít very emotional. He is more similar to my sister in most regards, but I have always loved him just the same.
He is often a quiet man under public situations, but the second you get him talking, or he is surrounded by family members he is actually quite loud and chatty. This is most true at large family gatherings. Dinner with his side of the family often involves several conversations going on over each other, as each family member has to talk louder and louder to be heard, in these situations my fatherís voice often wins, or is a close second to one of his two brothers.
As much as my father doesnít voice his opinions about most things, he definitely has them and they come out every once in a while to show they arenít extinct.
He is quite the clown too. He has kept me laughing since the day I was born with his never ending antics.
Iíve never understood men, because I grew up in a house where it was three powerful women and my poor dad. I donít think he ever stood a chance at winning an argument but like a good man does he normally realized he should just let us win. Iím pretty sure he learnt this from his father, although their household growing up was of 4 men and my grandmother, she often had the last say on things, and people listened to what she said.
Where my mother taught me valuable emotional lessons, my father taught me all the important hands on stuff. The good thing here is that he never expected my sister and I to play sports. We wouldnít have been very good at it if we tried to be honest, other than our brief high school basketball attempts, we were happy to stay active in other ways. Iíd like to say he taught me how to ride a bike, and he did teach me how to do it with training wheels, but I never fully learned and was a pretty stubborn kid that had no intention of trying. He did however teach my sister to ride hers, and often joins her on long excursions around Montrťal. I however was an Irish dancer and he still supported me and came to all of my shows.
When I picked up my first camera, my father taught me the basics, and later went on to let me teach him some of the new stuff. Together we figured out how to make a good photo and probably annoyed our dogs by chasing them around with the lens in their face.
He taught me how to camp by our cottage, often more willing to catch bugs with me than the ladies in my family. To this day, I am not sure if he actually ate the worms he put ketchup and mustard on, and not sure I ever want the answer. He showed me how to bait a fishing hook, and how to cast the line. Luckily he is a tall man at 6 foot 7 and was able to untangle it from the many trees I proudly caught. He then showed me how to start a nice big fire to roast the marshmallows on, even if the majority of the time him and his brothers made it much TOO large.
He has been working the same job for more than 30 years. He is dedicated and committed to providing for my family. Because of this job, he is fairly knowledgeable with computers, and fixes all the problems with the many computers in my family. I am pretty sure we would all be out a lot more cash if we didnít have him around, not to mention he is also our own personal handy man.
I am pretty sure I have my father and grandfathers to blame for my sweet tooth. Although I am not a fan of chocolate, I sure did get fed a lot of it and other goodies growing up by these men. Ice cream is a favorite amongst the four of us, and our addiction included several visits to a shop called Wild Willyís back home, tasting a new crazy flavor each time.
My father made my choice to live a clean alcohol free life easy. I canít remember ever seeing him take a sip of any alcohol, and that always made me proud of him. To this day I am grateful to having such a good influence in my life. He was never overly protective like most dads, and I like it that way. He never overly interrogated the boys I brought home, instead he tried to talk to them and find a common ground. He didnít often shout, the odd times Iíve heard him yell it hasnít lasted long.
Thanks for being such a hands on great dad. I know I donít always appreciate or acknowledge my love for you, but you have helped mold me into the young lady I am becoming. I wish I could be home to see you fly the helicopter we bought you for Christmas, I hear you donít crash into people with it anymore.