Remembering a Dad...

 Remembering a Dad...

2020 has been a year of immense challenges for many of us. Most days, I wake up with a sense of wonder about what could possibly happen next.  In April, near the beginning of this years' pandemic craze, I got a call that I had been dreading for a long time. The minute I heard my brother-in-law's voice I knew…my Dad had passed.  But it's not that I was expecting it. Even though my Dad had turned 92 barely a month prior, he was still a going concern. My son and I had been up to visit for his birthday and took him out for dinner just a month before. 

He was still independent, living in the home he built 50 years ago, driving his car, making plans for the future. But I guess it was his time to go. It's now some 8 months later, which at times feels like eons, and also like yesterday, that he was here.  He left his mark and gave us much to process and think about as we mourn the loss.  Covid-19 has taken a lot from us. We don't believe it had anything to do with my Dads' death, but it certainly has robbed us of a "normal" grieving process.  In the 8 months since his passing, I have yet to hug my sister. We have spent considerable time together, socially distanced, but at least able to share our feelings and memories. We have been robbed of having a Celebration of Life where friends, family, and the community could be together to share their experiences and memories. My kids struggled to comprehend why things had to be this way.  Instead, we have had to be creative and patient and accept the way things unroll and come back together.

Covid did give me one thing, time to be in Haliburton at my Dad's place. Because the schools shut down after March Break, I was laid off work and became a 'stay at home Dad' again until school resumed. Consequently, we had time to go back up to the old homestead to be where he had spent the past 50 years. 

My kids got to have a summer, where I had my summers as a kid.  Yes, much of the time was spent working. The property had become cluttered and neglected as my Dad spent so much of his last 10+ years caring for my Mom. She had become increasingly infirm until her passing in 2019.  Perhaps this was my way to mourn and work through my feelings and memories of him. 

As a kid, I spent a great deal of time with my Dad; he was in many ways ahead of his time. He was very much a "hands-on" Dad.  I was pretty much welcome to go where ever he went. We were fortunate that his workplace, though a blue-collar job, was a kid-friendly place.  So from a young age, I spent time "working" on snowmobiles, chainsaws, motorcycles, ATVs, boats, and pretty much anything mechanical or building decks, garages, furniture, etc.  I was the designated wrench passer and tester. Much to my Mother's shock, I started driving a snowmobile on my own at 6 years of age.  Not long after this, I was out for an entire day, following the groomers on the trails on a snowy P.A. day.  The outdoors was perhaps my Dad's greatest love, after his family. -30C didn't discourage him from a day out in the bush on his beloved "Alpine" groomer.

 When he was in his 60's, I asked him why he was fighting the elements outdoors 5 days a week instead of driving the big heated full-sized groomer. He replied that the big machine was boring and unchallenging. In the summer, we spent many days zipping around the Haliburton Forest's back roads in the old Grey Jeep, roof off & windshield laid flat on the hood, so we got the full effect! Yes, we were working, but magically a couple of fishing rods would appear at lunchtime as we conveniently parked beside a fishing hole he had discovered. These occurrences weren't rare; they were regular occurrences.

We were never wealthy; riches eluded him and us. But we never lacked for the essentials and especially time and experiences. I took so much of this for granted as a kid; I thought every Dad must have a little kid as his co-pilot day in and day out. While much of it was a part of working, those times were invaluable. I learned many valuable lessons and skills, like handling a hammer, power saw, and wrench. But also that it was okay to stop in the middle of the day and go for a swim in a lake or take a few casts with a fishing rod. 

My Dad came across as a pretty straight forward guy, but in fact, he was far from simple and easy to read. He was always full of surprises and contradictions. For example, he was not a fan of fast-food restaurants that didn't provide proper plates and cutlery, but it was perfectly okay to roast a sandwich over an open fire, on a branch cut from a tree, 30 km back in the bush. He could be quiet and reserved and the next minute let loose a 10-minute rant about politics to anybody that would listen. 

He was born in 1928 on Berlin's outskirts; he was only 17 when the 2^nd world war ended. He saw things no teenager should have to see and survived being captured by Russian soldiers that were marching prisoners back to Russia.  

His older brother died in the war, of pneumonia, as a soldier. Dad's draft papers arrived near the end of the war; his father put them back in the mailbox "addressee unknown," and before it could be returned, the war was over. This delay tactic may have saved his life.  He didn't like to talk about this horrific time in his life, though he said the memories/nightmares about this time returned in his last years.  He always reminded us of the horrors and senseless of war.

In many ways, he was remarkable, and given what he went through in his youth, it was an accomplishment to actually live a "normal" life as a husband and parent.   He met my Mother, who was seven years his junior, and the two would embark on many adventures, ultimately moving to Canada in 1957 a mere month after getting married. They were married for 62 years until my Mom's death in 2019. They landed in Halifax in March of 1957.  He was not to return to Germany for over 30 years. Canada was home, and he was an immensely proud Canadian citizen.  After a dozen years in Toronto, they decided to "get out of Dodge" and purchased property in Haliburton, near the Gull River. Together with their best friends, the Wolms, they built houses together and moved permanently to Haliburton in 1969.  He would live here until his death in April.

I don't want to leave the impression that he was a saint or that

our relationship was perfect, it wasn't, and we had our challenges.  He did go through a phase where he wrestled with some of his own demons, as I suspect many of us do as we age.  He had a temper that you didn't want to be on the wrong side of and a death glare that could make me shrink in my seat.   As I now have kids and also entered my 50's I have a better understanding of what he went through at different times in his life.  But he always showed me that change and forgiveness were possible, and he was easily the most loyal person I have ever known. He would walk through fire for his family.  

He loved his kids and grandkids immensely. I think he had pretty much given up on me, providing him with grandkids, but when my kids arrived, it was clear that he saw them as a huge gift. 

It was the 2^nd time around bonus, as my sister had given him two grandchildren 20+ years prior.  I am very grateful that my kids spent time with him, experienced his humour, patience, creativity, and adventurous side. When we visited, it was not long before he would be up and gone, and then we would hear the tractor roar, and off he went with the kids to do "work" outside. Or build snow forts in the wintertime.  This is one of the ways he demonstrated his love for us, he was never able to verbalize those words, but he showed us with his time and actions, day in and day out.

As my life got busier with a young family living in Mississauga, It was difficult to spend much time with him in the last decade. With my Mother's health fragile for the last ten + years, our visits tended to be briefer and briefer. The times I was able to spend with him were golden. He aged with grace and continued to teach me until the end.

Over the spring, summer, and fall, as we worked without him to clean up and restore the house to what it once had been, there were countless memory trigger points. Grief and gratitude come at the strangest, most unpredictable moments.   His touch was everywhere on that property. In some ways, it made me smile and also reminded me of how he frustrated me with some of his "McGyver" traits.  Never the less he leaves a legacy.  And he leaves large shoes to fill.  Now the house is sold, and a young man is starting a new journey there. It marks the closing of a big chapter in our lives. It is hard to believe he won't be with us this Christmas, waiting outside for us to come down the driveway, snow shovel in hand. But we will remember him and smile when we do…as he is still all around us.  Thanks for everything Dad…

THE COVID DAD WEEK THREE

It’s a bleak looking early Spring day, steady rain, drizzle and grey skies.  This is week three of Dad’s return to life as a Stay at Home Dad. Yes, we survived the first 2 weeks, so what went right and what went wrong? 

Honestly, we got a lot of things right, and I am surprised how well we have adapted. But there have been some challenges.

How do we create a balance between constructive time, including schoolwork, reading books & household chores versus getting zoned out on tablets and Netflix? This a parenting challenge at the best of times, but in “normal” times we get to hand off this problem to our kid's schools from 8:00 am to 4 pm from Monday to Friday. Now we not only need to act as parents but also teachers and schoolyard supervisors. Except we aren’t allowed to let our kids play in schoolyards or playgrounds. Getting this right is a work in progress.  As a parent, it’s just too easy to let the kids strap on headphones and start watching Youtube. This remarkably buys you an hour or 2 of time where you can take a break from being a referee, teacher, and parent. It gives you time to make a few important phone calls. But it’s too easy to abuse this power…and something curious happens to kids when they spend to much time behind screens…they turn into moody little monsters with serious attitude.

One of the biggest changes is learning how to slow down. It’s been 5 years since I had any serious time to slow things down. We are a busy family. We are two parents working full time. The constant challenge is balancing raising 2 kids, keeping a house somewhat fit for living, 2 cars in decent repair, adequate time on the job, checking in on parents, occasional date night and meeting with friends, getting the kids to dance, guitar, basketball, skiing, swimming, soccer, and the occasional bike ride.  Yep to keep all that going, requires a certain pace. What the Corona Virus has done is wipe much of that agenda off the board.  But it’s hard to go from 60km/h to 10 in a few days.

Now when we do our daily sanity walk (because we can’t do much else out of the house) my default setting is to set a quick pace to get it done. But why? 

Now when my 6-year-old has a question or 20 about something she sees, we can stop and investigate it further. When my 11-year old wants to go further or take a different route…we can…because why not?  It sounds simple, but it takes a while to change that default setting.  We now have been granted permission, by a virus, to watch a Netflix movie at 2 in the afternoon.

Being a parent at times like this also means providing some shelter to kids from the avalanche of information that is coming down the Pike, mostly negative.  Keeping the TV and radio news off or away from kids is difficult. DD6 knows more about the Corona Virus than she should. She also knows it’s why she can’t visit or Opa, or her Nanna and Grandpa, or her Aunt and Uncle. She has stopped asking if today is a school day.

Managing exposure to the massive amounts of media and current events that I take in is critically important as well. Stay informed but limit exposure to avoid a daily or hourly anxiety attack.  It’s hard to put on a smile and have patience with kids when the news is overwhelmingly negative and all about fear.  How do you stay calm in the midst of a pandemic, and project hope onto your kids?  How do you not let your kids see your fear about paying the bills in the months ahead, watching your wife head to work every day wondering if she is safe, wondering if and when you will go back to work, if and when you will get to see your extended family?  If and when we can host a simple Birthday party, if and when we can plan a family vacation, and on it goes…

The only solution I have found is to try as best I can, to stay in the day. I try to be grateful that for today we are more than okay, and we have more than we need. Just don’t ask me about tomorrow…  

The COVID Dad…Day Two!

Over the past few days, I have had a few people ask me if I was going to resurrect my Dad Blog. Who knew it would take a pandemic and being thrown back into being a stay at home dad to make it happen.  I have failed to anticipate many things as a parent. Now I can add parenting through a global pandemic to the list.   

It's hard to describe what it's been like watching events unfold over the past few months. Perhaps like watching a slow-moving freight train coming at us while being stuck on the train tracks. Of course, alongside us are our children, just 6 and 11.

So now we are on Day two, of the "work from home" edict dropped by our government and thankfully supported by a reasonable and caring employer.   My wife is required to be in her office, at least for now, working in essential government services.  Through it all, we keep repeating the mantra; this is temporary, we will all be okay, this too shall pass.  And then, we turn on the news or open Twitter, and the serenity evaporates, and the anxiety returns.

What do we do? Well, we put one foot in front of the other. We limit our access to TV/Radio news. Yes, we need to be informed, but we need not obsess, and we have to choose our news sources carefully.  Fear-mongering links to unvetted websites and so-called experts deleted forthwith. We came through day two quite well, I only truly lost my shit after the 2^nd trip to the golden arches to pick up the promised junk food lunch, to be told by DD6 that she had changed her mind and no longer liked her choice.  That didn't end well. I did better with all the furniture being rearranged in the basement to make a fort, and the 17 requests for snacks, usually while I was on the phone. 

I did get lulled into a sense of solitude and peace during an extended period of quiet, with DS11 zoned out on his PS4 and a remarkably quiet daughter.  When I finally snapped out of it and asked that dangerous question: "Hey, what are you doing?" I got an interesting answer. "I'm just painting, dad!" Those are four words that will send any dad into a low-grade panic. Fortunately, there was some paper involved, and collateral damage was limited to a $20 coffee table and some bathroom towels. But it serves as a great reminder that kids don't raise themselves, don't supervise themselves, and self-entertainment is risky at best…when you are six!

All these child antics are annoying but manageable, and even amusing at times. But underlying it all is that knot in the stomach that I suspect most parents are experiencing right now. We are in an unprecedented global event. We can't just pack up and move to Costa Rica to get away from this, even if we wanted to. It's everywhere, and there is no running away from it. Not only do we worry about the health of our children and our own health. But we worry about our friends and co-workers. It's an event like this that is a reminder of how many people have underlying health issues, compromised immune systems. We worry about elderly parents. We worry about when it will be safe to visit parents and our kid's grandparents without putting them at risk? Is it a few weeks? A few months? A year? 

How do we plan? Is school canceled for three weeks or until September? How long does "social distancing" last? Will this be over by July? Should we cancel summer vacation plans? We worry about jobs, ours and our friends. We worry about what the economy will look like when we come out the other side. So many questions, so few answers? 

So what do we do? We get up each day and start again. We show up for work, even if that means an office in the basement. We take the dog for a walk. We stop at the playground and challenge the kids on the swings. We chat with neighbours from across the driveway.  And above all, we remember to be grateful, and not just for the unlimited internet….   

My Mom, a force is at rest...

A year ago at this time, I was in Haliburton again, but not for the usual visit. This time it was different, the meeting with the doctors had made it clear, my mom was VERY sick and this time there would be no miracle recovery. It was time to say goodbye. In the morning she would slip away peacefully.  

This day did not come as a total surprise, my Mom had been sick for a very long time, the last 10 years saw a steady decline, after many hospital visits and procedures.  We almost lost her at Sunnybrook after a heart valve replacement went wrong, and it had to be redone. We waited for days to see if she would come back to us…she did but had been weakened.  Several strokes occurred over the years and each time we lost a little more of her. To make matters worse she also was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy. It was hard to witness, we truly lost her in installments. We had several close calls, and when I saw my sister's number would come up on my call display my heart would jump. My sister's first words were usually: “everything is okay”,  to quell my fear. But often it wasn’t and there were many hospital visits. Yet in the end, when I looked at her so frail and weak in the hospital bed, knowing full well her quality of life had reached zero, it was still very difficult to let go. 

My memories of her when she was younger made it hard to reconcile the fragile shell of a person she had become by the end. My young mother was a force to be reckoned with… the classic stereotypical strong German woman.  Old age at times is unkind, robbing people of their dignity. My own kids, whom she loved fiercely, never really saw the strong, full of life, person, that I knew as a kid and young man. I’m grateful that they had a relationship, but in some ways, it was very different  than what I had experienced as a kid.

My Mom was not always the easiest person to have around. She was outspoken, strong-willed, stubborn and opinionated.  She was often tough when I thought I needed her to be soft.  Does that sound familiar?  But beyond all that, she was the kindest, most loving, courageous and loyal person I have ever known.  She had a way to bring people together and she knew how to get a party started.  She often seemed to have boundless energy, when the rest of us were exhausted she wanted to go out dancing.  I think of her often when I feel tired and crash on the couch on a Saturday afternoon. I rarely saw my Mother take an afternoon nap before she got sick, she was always in motion.

I read the eulogy I wrote last year again today, and I realize that it’s impossible to sum up a life in a few short paragraphs. It’s impossible to capture a person’s essence in a few pages of text.  I really haven’t felt like writing since she passed away last year. This post has not come easily but I think she would want me to “get moving” again. 

My mom was all about action, and she would not want me to be sitting around in sorrow.  She would want me or us to seize the day. My mom never stopped dreaming of a better future and perhaps that is what got her to be 84 and overcome so many challenges. In her honour, tomorrow I will make sure I dream of a better future for me and my family and I will be grateful for all the things she taught me and the gifts she gave.

I miss you to the moon and back Mom.