Today is the day when fathers jump to the front of the queue. As a kid growing up, I saw my father as a pretty neat guy. Not cool, mind you; like, say, Chuck Norris (how cool would it be to have Chuck Norris as your dad?) but pretty awesome through my young eyes. He was Mr. Fixit, which, when you live on a farm, kinda comes with the territory. He was the sole breadwinner, working a job full time in addition to working the land. He was a WWII vet, spending the better part of 2 years bobbing around the North Atlantic hunting German U-boats. He had a great sense of humour – I can still hear him belly laughing at the antics of Bugs Bunny and the Roadrunner while I sat and watched cartoons. He was a sports nut; be it Hockey Night in Canada, or the local softball team, he watched. He was a maestro with a barbeque, when charcoal was not only king, but the only game in town. And, as a peculiar quirk, he was fascinated by the weather. Along with catching the forecast on the news, he (like most farmers) was adept at ‘knowing’ the weather. I can picture him standing outside, analyzing clouds, listening to the trees, or the birds, or the bugs, and accurately predict a change in conditions.
He passed away many years ago, at age 75. There was much life to live, for him – family milestones to be celebrated; grandkids he never really got to know. Does it ever all work out just the way we want it?
To all the dads out there, take a bow. You’ve earned it. Enjoy your day.