Our Fathers

Hello all you neglected readers of this blog...you should know by now that I am a fowl weather blogger only! Indeed, it is raining here again, therefore I sit to blog!

First order of business, Happy Father's Day to any dads out there who happen to read this post. Yours is truly a hard position to fill well and I do not envy you the expectations we all put on you. Dads have a heavy burden to carry and those who are a success at their role know all too well it's not easy. So hats off to all the dads out there who care about their children and wives and work so hard to support them. Thank you for being the men our wee ones look up to, aspire to be like, and teach life's lessons to. Hats off to you my husband Michael, (I'll make you read this later) you are a very good dad and our kids are very blessed to have such a caring, silly, wise and creative father to help lead them along the way. We love you and things could never be the same without you!

That being said, here's a story for you. I did not grow up for much of my life knowing my biological dad, barring the first couple of years of my childhood, which I cannot recall anyway. Through a list of crazy, sad and tragic events in my life, God saw it fit that my brother Dwane and I grow up on a dairy farm owned by some relatives we did not know very well. Quite a switch for two city dwellers who had friends around all the time and freedoms most kids shouldn't have at that age. (Right Darryl?!! ) Indeed, life on the farm was QUITE different than inner city Vancouver, but there we were. Though my brothers experience there was less than wonderful, mine was however a part of my childhood I often look back to with bitter sweet gladness. Living in a land we did not know in a place that allowed for little freedoms or creative expressions, I too felt at times cheated out of childhood "rights" so to speak, by the all encompassing work load of a dairy...always one more thing to do, one more animal needing care, one more section of garden to tend to, the list went on and on. My relationship with my aunt was somewhat stifled as we were greeted with a feeling of coldness. I was not a daughter of theirs (5 already grown children of their own and many foster children before we arrived) and that was made very clear the day I asked if I could call them "Mom + Dad". The words "We think it's best you call us aunt and uncle..." to this day echo in my mind and yes, bring tears to my eyes. In my childhood selfishness and pain I wanted to yell back "That's not fair, now I've no one!" but now in my adult life I am beginning to see they just didn't want me to ever forget who my mom was; they didn't want me to replace her with them.
The reason I go into all this is to say there was a time when I realized how much of a father my uncle was to me. It occurred to me quite early on while we were there that he was indeed much like what I'd pictured a father to be. And much to his credit, he really did make a concerted effort to raise me as one of his own. I remember times when even at our busiest, he'd stand beside me with his arm around my shoulders and ask "So Dawn, how are you today? How was school? And what was the best part of your day?" There was always a silly little song or tune to make light of the heavy work load and he always had some silly story or joke to add to our dinner conversations. But he could be foul tempered and fly off the handle, as I too along my own parenting journey find myself once in a while. And who can blame him...I would too if I had a farm to hold together, a business to run, and a family to clothe and feed. Not to mention the fact that the love of his life, my aunt, soon after we'd arrived there, was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. That in itself took on a stressful and very painful life of it's own.
There are things that I would change if I were to go back now, things I would have said, attitudes I would change in my own self. There are things I don't agree with that my parents thought priority at the time, life philosophies I will not repeat with my family. But now in my adult life I do see the value in the values they tried to instill in each of us. "We can only do the best with what we are given." I remember someone saying this from those days gone by. And it is very true. I am grateful for the time I spent there, for the good memories and for the respect, upright standards and hard work ethic I learned from my parents. I am also grateful and blessed to have gotten know these people on a very different level now as an adult. We are friends more now than ever and Uncle Art more of a father than even some who've know theirs their whole life. Things turn out the way they ought; there's a season for everything and we often are blessed along the way, whether we choose to see it that way or not.

Well, that's all for now. Have a great day today and tell your dad (or who ever fills that spot for you in your life) that you love him. If you can't, just remember all the good times and know that somewhere in there they really did love you! Cheers!