My Dad was an unconventional father.
In my early teens, he told me he had just 3 rules for me to live by.
Rule #1 – Do not get pregnant.
Rule #2 – Do not smuggle drugs across the border
Rule #3 – Do not get on a motorcycle with someone who has been drinking
I thought these were pretty good rules and I could accommodate.
Then, in my late teens, when I told Dad that I wanted to go sky diving, he looked at me and said “That’s rule #4.”
~
I have so many good memories of Dad and he’s implanted so many of his mannerisms and behaviours into my psyche.
When I was about 10, he took me on a road trip to the States on his Jawa Motorcycle. I loved riding with him. It felt natural and safe. Anyway, we were about to take a dip in a cold lake and he showed me the art of shocking your body with the water before you dove in (a splash of cold water on the nape of your neck, and under each arm pit). I still use that tactic to this day. It’s weird but it works!
Always sit house right in the movie theatre. Movie directors direct from this angle so that’s where you get the best point of view. He also uses this tactic in stage plays although in my professional opinion, unnecessary. I use this tip at the movies always.
Oh and afternoon naps…I love them too!
Embarrassing/Annoying Dad moments:
When he pulls out the 2 Litre bottle of hand lotion from his briefcase at the pub’s dinner table or anywhere else for that matter.
When he talks too loud. His whisper is NOT a whisper, it’s a stage aside so the audience can hear you. Ugh!
He was always late! Always!
He always wanted me to go sailing with him. Didn’t he know the thought of being trapped on a boat with no escape was not something that appealed me at all?! (apologies to all of you mariners here today…take no offense). I inherited a sailor’s mouth, not love of the open sea.
Favourite moments:
Finding out I had a beautiful sister, Mercedes. More than my best friend. I’m so very grateful to have her in my life.
Grade 8 “Graduation”. I was not a popular girl, but when Dad came to my grad in uniform, looking trim and all blonde curls bouncing around, and my mom went to take my picture, and I’m telling you that every single girl in my class, jumped into that picture and I got to sit on his lap. Popular for one night!
My old boyfriend George was a deckhand on the Canadian Empress and we broke up over the phone while she was docked at Trois Rivieres. Well, George missed the boat leaving the dock at 7:30am. He had no money and no way to catch up to the ship even by cab. I had to call Dad on his cell. And so that George wouldn’t get into trouble, Dad turned the boat around to pick him up, making him very late for his next docking. Bob Clarke only found out about this a few days ago. He laughed, sort of .
Since I was a child, he always, always sent me a postcard from wherever he was.
Watching Barney Miller reruns.
Dad took me to my first restricted movie, “48 Hours” with Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy. I wasn’t to tell my mom as I was only 14, but when the lights came up, she was there and had seen it too. I don’t know if he got into trouble for that one.
He stayed in Ontario after I left to live in Victoria with Lissa and Mercedes. He stayed because Great Aunt Frances, who was in a home in St. Catherines, would have been alone. He visited her often and it wasn’t until she died that he made the trek west to be closer to his daughters and Lissa.
He let me smoke cigarettes without a single negative word. Even handing me an ashtray. Bought me my first Zippo.
When I worked at the Sudbury Theatre Centre, he would come up in the dead of winter to see me. He came to Winnipeg, also in winter to see me, when I would tour a show from Victoria. He would meet my friends, we would all hang out. He loved the theatre scene. He was cool. You know.
Going for beer at Wiley’s, then helped to get me a job at Betty’s. Then meeting up for drinks with his friends and mine at Betty’s.
We talked about what I should do for a career. I was accepted at Ryerson for Nursing, Social Work and Technical Production of Theatre. He nudged me toward the fun life. I considered a career in the movies but he talked me out of it stating that I would find theatre families across the country. And that the movie industry was risky and fickle and he didn’t want me to become a coke addict. Seriously!..that’s what he said. So I had a great career in theatre as a Stage Manager. Thanks Dad!
Spanish Chicken in a crockpot…yum!
He tried to get my eldest Jackson engaged in different things and supported him in his endeavours. With sailing lessons, and guitar encouragement. Dad was thrilled for me when I met Lance (Sir Lancelot – my Prince) and had a few more babies. He reminded me that I always said I wanted a big family. He was happy for me.
I loved that he didn’t pretend to know or understand more than what he knew or understood. In the midst of tearing our house apart for a renovation, and we were looking at the studs and remnants of once was walls, Dad casually walked in, looked around and said “I have no idea what I’m looking at. Good luck to you”. He wasn’t macho…he was honest. Love that.
Did you know that he loved getting presents? That he loved wrapping presents in his own creative way. What he could do with ribbon…odd and inspiring!
Earlier this year, he returned to the stage as the Head Waiter in Pacific Opera Victoria’s production of La Boehme. No - he didn’t sing a word. He did a great job. Loved the gig. Was concerned about the opera singers and their placement of the props he had to deal with (welcome to the oprera!). But didn’t complain to anyone, he was just concerned that he looked like a professional waiter and not a bumbling fool. And during bows, although he was at the very back, behind the chorus, the person least seen, I could see him. I had box seats. He was beaming! He was so proud to be up on stage with such talented people. To be back in the theatre.
There are so many great moments with Dad. I have shared but a few. He treated me as an adult even when I was a child. He respected me, and my opinions. I could tell him anything and I knew he wouldn’t judge me. That’s priceless.
It seems impossible that he’s gone and that my kids won’t get the same opportunity, as I had, to experience the entity of Ratch.
Save a cold one for me Dad.
Love Always, Katexo