My Dad

Being raised to be an opinionated, independent person by an opinionated father meant that my Dad and I have often had a rocky relationship. Most of my teen years we spent fighting. We spent much of my late twenties, after I moved home to finish my degree fighting. As I've eased into my thirties, settled into a home of my own, and had a daughter, my sometimes strained relationship with my father has grown in leaps and bounds.

Despite our rollercoaster, there are some universal truths about my Dad.

He can build anything. If I need things built that go beyond my excellent shelf building skills, I call my Dad. It's not really a finished product unless he's baptized it in his own blood, but the man can build anything.

He can fix anything. When I was in grade 12, I bought my first car. It was a 12 year old Honda Accord, and like most 12 year old cars, the shelf life on most of the parts had expired. I can't count how many times I would come home and hand my keys over and tell him (never ask) to fix my car. Similarly, when I was wondering what I needed to do to make on of our toilets stop running, Dad told me what parts I needed, but gave me a tip to try before I gutted the tank that helped.

He is brilliant, but incredibly modest. Dad is university educated, but beyond that, he is well read, he keeps up on current events and knows stuff. Despite that, I was raised to know my Mum was brilliant, and Dad never let us kids forget we were above average either - but he always played himself off as a dummy of the family. The man worked super hard in university, and has a degree with a triple major. Whenever he's been called on to do something outside his field of expertise he learns how and is proficient.

He is funny. Dad and Mum both have an awesome sense of humour, and encouraged my brother and I to develop ours. Dad was who I saw Army of Darkness with, and we laughed our asses off. That's just one example. Dad says funny things and does funny stuff to make us all laugh.

He is romantic. Dad probably doesn't realize it because he likes to play up being a redneck, but everything he does, he does to the fullest of his abilities, and that includes romance. He loves my Mum with his entire being, and even though he is too macho to say the words, every year, on the day they met, he gives her a bouquet of roses with another added to the bunch - 1 for every year.

He is caring and his family is his universe. When I was a little girl, we had this game we played. We would walk in opposite directions around the house, and every time we met up, we would hug. It wasn't a game that we would agree needed playing, it was just something that happened every once and while. Dad would start walking around the house, I would walk in the other direction and hugging would happen. That all ended when I become a cranky hormonal teenager. I miss those hugs.

He is an amazing teacher. Whenever there's something I have to do, and I don't know how, I call Dad and ask. He usually can teach me over the phone. I know it drove him crazy when I did that when I lived in Vancouver because he couldn't just come take care of it, but he's taught me a helluva lot of things over the phone. Dad was a teacher by profession for over 30 years. He still has students run over to say hello to him because for all that is a gruff guy, he was a remarkable teacher to them as well.

He can diagnose car problems over the phone. This is tied in with the last one, but deserves its own spot. When I lived in Vancouver, I could call and say 'my car is doing _____' or 'my car is making this noise: ________' and Dad could tell me what was wrong with about 90% accuracy. This was infinitely helpful when going into mechanics. They didn't see a 20-something girl that they could dupe, they saw a confident young woman who said 'There's something wrong with my ______. I think it's the _______. Can you check it?' Dad's knack for understanding my weird car noises and descriptions saved me loads of money.

He adores my daughter. He took her to a railway museum yesterday, and took her on the little ride-on train. He lights up when he sees her, and I've heard him sing to her when he thinks no one else in around. She snuggles with him like she snuggles with no one else. The way he loves her reminds me of the way my Poppa loved me, and I am so grateful for the relationship he is building with her. My Poppa was one of the hugest influences in my young life, and I'm excited to see my Dad stepping into that role with my daughter.


Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you!