What I Learned On Summer Vacation 2022

                                        What I Learned On Summer Vacation 2022

As a family, we have wanted to do an epic road trip for a number of years, but something always got in the way. A Job change, family obligations, and of course the biggie…Covid. But now as we return to some sense of normalcy, we decided to pull the trigger and make it happen.  I am writing this in hindsight, we have been home for a week now. Sorry for ruining the suspense...we made it.

We had a few different destinations in mind, and after a few years of Ontario discovery trips, we wanted to go out of the province.  Many of our friends and coworkers had made the trip to the East Coast and loved it. And we wanted the flexibility to hook up with some friends that moved out to Nova Scotia a decade ago.  We chose Prince Edward Island as our final destination.

We chose to drive, we wanted to avoid the expense and the current nightmare of what is Pearson International Airport. We also wanted our kids, now 8 and 14, to experience the vastness of this great Country.  We were prepared for this when we bought our 7-passenger van in 2020. Now was the time! 

Here are some random things I learned from this adventure; you may judge if there have been any embellishments. 😊   

1. Even though we planned many stops well in advance, there was no guarantee that it would work out as we thought.  There are always factors out of our control, weather, venue closures, travel fatigue and the inevitable last-minute kid meltdown “but I don’t want to go”.   One of my earliest items on the “must see and do list”, was Tidal Bore Rafting. But as things turned out, the tides were at their highest, so Carleigh was too young to go, and in the end, nobody else was really into it. So we let that slip off the itinerary. Maybe next time.

2. Book your hotels early, and carefully, especially if you are planning on traveling over weekends.  We were pretty lucky for the most part, and our requirements are pretty modest.  We don’t need 5-star accommodations. But one stop on our way home in New Brunswick was a little rough around the edges.  A sense of humour was helpful to get through it.  The “lakefront cabins” we had reserved were more adapted toolsheds on an algae-filled pond.  The rickety decks, crazy noisy exhaust fans, plugged toilet, and sketchy neighbours were only to be topped by our discovery of a CN rail line running directly behind the cabins. The toot toot clickety clack, clickety clack loses it’s charm at 1:00 AM. But the “free” breakfast was great!

3. Be prepared for travel fatigue and crankiness from everyone at some point.  When we arrived at the cottage we had rented for a week, after traveling for a week, in and out of hotels, everybody was done…. NOBODY was happy. But given some time to decompress and assisted by the sheer beauty of our surroundings, we all bounced back, quickly, and let bygones be bygones. In hindsight perhaps we were too ambitious on our first week’s itinerary.

4. I was not prepared for the sheer beauty of this country. Over and over, we were blown away by the unspoiled beauty. Whether it was the grand vistas of the mighty St. Lawrence, the experience of walking on the ocean floor after a 40-foot tide had receded at Hopewell Rocks. The picture-perfect experience of Prince Edward Island is hard to describe and left us yearning to go back to spend more time, explore more, learn more.  I have never seen a place where so much pride of ownership is on display. The beaches are pristine, the family homes are quaint and colourful, the lawns are huge and manicured, the farm fields lush and colourful.

5. Swimming in the ocean is a must.  The water was a little colder than my last time in the Atlantic, a few thousand km’s to the south. But there is nothing like the taste of salt on your lips, and the feeling of the fine sand between your toes as you walk the beach.

6. Canadians are kind, we didn’t have a bad experience with anyone we encountered on the trip. But East coasters take it to a higher level. When we first came across the listing for the cottage we rented. We weren’t prepared for the laid-back response from the owners. They were slow in responding, leaving us concerned that we might lose the reservation. Only to be assured that the place was ours, and the financial details would be done old school, snail mail, on island time.  The cottage was everything they said it would be, even the cleaners were kind.  When I noticed a concerning wheel noise on our van, the local Dodge dealer bent over backward to keep us on the road, we only lost a few hours of our vacation time for the repair, not a dime was charged, all under warranty.

7.  I am glad we allowed ourselves time to be flexible and change course when it seemed right. We originally had not planned to venture as far as Halifax. But when time allowed we took the time to do it. My interest was to see Pier 21. This proved to be a rather emotional stop for me, my parents landed here in 1957, as immigrants.  To see the photo on the wall of the ship they traveled on, the stories of so many waves of people that arrived here to make a better life…and did. Though it wasn’t easy. I was heartened to see the interest my kids showed at this wonderful museum. I am glad we made the time to experience it.

In the end, if I had it to do all over again, I would change a few things, but I have no regrets. It was on my bucket list to see the Canadian East Coast. Mission accomplished. The experience was positive, but most importantly I believe my kids will carry the memories for a lifetime. We will likely return to P.E.I. again, I am not sure when, but we will likely fly to save time. (the chaos around flying can’t last forever…can it?) Our next major adventure will likely take us West. Time to save our nickels or win the lottery.

 

  

The Long Good Bye

They say you can pick your friends but you can’t pick your family. But that isn’t completely true. Over 20 years ago I chose a partner, a young lady who agreed to walk this journey with me.

We eventually married and chose to start a family. I realize the saying is about the family you are born into, but in reality today, families are made in many different ways.  I have been fortunate enough to be part of a very special family, and how it all came together is one for the history books.

I remember my first trip to Sudbury, in the year 2000 to meet the people that would become my in-laws.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, my wife had given me her version of what I should expect, but the reality is unique to the individual.  I was welcomed into their home and treated with kindness, curiosity, and probably some reservation. Now that I am a father of a daughter, I get that. That first trip was short and pretty uneventful.  I don’t know that my future father-in-law knew at the time that he had met his future son-in-law. I don't know that he would have chosen me at that time 😊. But it was the first of many trips.

Family dynamics can be interesting and over the next 20 + years my relationship with this man would change dramatically. From the beginning where we both held back to measure each other, to the end where all walls had come down and a solid relationship of love and respect had blossomed. I am writing this today, due to the loss of this great man. A harsh and heartbreaking loss, the result of a years-long battle with Dementia.

When we first met I thought I had zero in common with this Doctor, husband, and father. He didn’t have a whole lot to say on our first visit, which is not unusual for relationships between men.  In the years that followed, we didn’t always see eye to eye on everything, but I began to see I had more in common with him than I first thought. He had come from humble beginnings, believed in hard work, was the ultimate family man, had a passion for cars, loved the outdoors, vanilla ice cream, and nothing more than to have the newspaper waiting in the morning with his coffee. He was also fiercely loyal to his family. My own father had many of the same traits, and so do I.

A lot of life happens in 20+ years. And we shared many of those experiences. Some were joyful times.  Shopping trips to get ready for our wedding, vacations together, help buying our first house, being together for the birth of my son, then years later the arrival of my daughter. He was such a proud grandfather. Other times were very, very difficult. With the death of my brother-in-law Andy, his son, from a long battle with Melanoma. I remember picking him up at the airport and seeing a man whose heart had been hollowed out. But he still walked with grace and carried on courageously, for his wife and family.

He was teased a lot by his wife and daughter for being a white-collar guy and not being “handy” around the house. He took the jokes in stride, but in reality that wasn’t really true. He wasn’t a carpenter, but he knew how to swing a hammer with the best of them.  And what I discovered was that he loved to be part of a project at the camp or our house. Whether it was cutting down trees, repairing the dock, leveling the deck, or draining the water system at the end of the season, he was all over it. We made a damn good team. 

His passion for cars was something we could share as well. It became a tradition that no matter what the weather, he would make the trek to Toronto so we could attend the International Auto show. We did this faithfully for many years until Dementia took that away. I remember our last trip there and seeing the fear in the eyes of this once confident man, and it was sad and terrifying to think of losing him there in that crowd. 

Dementia has no compassion, it takes people from you in slow motion, in increments. They call it the long goodbye.  And it’s true.  Over time you see a person become less. It’s heart-wrenching to watch.

 But almost to the end, I could still get him to join me for a road trip, whether it was a run to Canadian Tire for supplies or a dump run, he was up for it. He would want to know how many kilometers I had on the car now. He was always shaking his head at me for the high mileage vehicles I drove. Inevitably he would want to know what the horsepower was, and when I might be looking for a new one.

Elwood, our beginning was a little shaky, but in the end, you became a 2nd Dad. You were a constant source of strength and a great mentor. I will miss our chats, your love of my children, your support, our road trips, and our handyman projects. May you Rest in well-earned Peace. 

    

Happy Birthday Mom!

 Today is the day my mother would have turned 86. We lost her a few years ago, after a long decline caused by a series of strokes and other ailments. It was difficult to watch someone who was such a strong woman be reduced by illness. Life at times can be cruel.  Time marches on, with or without the people that we love.

I have come to learn that grief is an odd, strange, and personal, journey. At the strangest times, emotions well up, and memories are triggered. I had the luxury of a solo bike ride today, and while cycling I had one of those moments where my Mom was present for a moment, and I felt sad she was gone, and also grateful for all she had given me, for over 50 years. 

I think being a parent gives me a different perspective today on what my parents and my mom were able to give. I often remember her as being difficult to be with at times and strong-headed. But today I was reminded of what a unique and strong woman she was, despite a pretty tough childhood herself.  Many of the things I now do for my own kids, she did as well. Reading report cards, helping me with math and other homework, meeting with teachers, learning how the school system worked, advocating for me with the school administration, and a million other things. She did it in English, her second language, and not in her native country, in a school system that was foreign to her, in a foreign culture she had adopted. 

Parenting is no easy task, I’ve learned this first hand. It challenges me every day. Perhaps it’s a way to knock my ego down, as rarely a day goes by that I don’t feel woefully inadequate. It’s a daily challenge to find the patience needed and the energy to do all the things that the parenting handbook (in my head) says need to get done. I look at my Grade 8 son’s homework and it looks like Greek. Suddenly I need to do research on High Schools for next year, then there is a message from Carleigh’s teacher suggesting she is a handful. And of course, the colds, and cases of flu, immunizations, lost lunch bags, mitts, hats. And “Dad, can I have a $100 for the school ski trip?” And don’t forget about the $400 for dance classes. 

Today I was reminded that my mom did all this too, with many more challenges than I face today.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but she did a pretty good job. I wish I had her energy, and patience, and desire to get it done. We were not a wealthy family, but I have to say I never lacked for anything. I went on every school trip, I had a snowmobile to ride from the age of six, a pony in the back yard, went skiing whenever I wanted, swam pretty much every day all summer, always had a car to drive from the age of 16 and so much more.  As a kid, some of these things weren’t always up to the standard I would have liked, but that is a part of growing up to. Want something better? Get a job and buy it yourself.  Now I know why sometimes the answer was “no” when requests were unreasonable.  Now I know why I was expected to cut the grass, help with the firewood, feed the animals. Because I was being shown what it’s all about to be part of a family. We all had to contribute.  

As a grown-up, and when I became a parent, my parents and my mom were still there to teach and love us. Even when I was 50 I was still her boy, and she was my biggest booster.  She loved nothing more than a visit from her grandchildren, and all of us around the kitchen table for a big meal.  I am grateful I was able to give them that gift. Grateful we had time with her, it was more than I expected. My parents said more than once, their goal was to provide my sister and I with more choices than they had been given.  And they succeeded in spades.  We had many conversations over the years, broken fences mended. Hard feelings heeled. 

But I don’t think I ever told her how proud I was of her, & how grateful I was for everything she gave. This one’s for you mom.  

Ramblings of a Tired Son, Dad & Husband

Here we are, a day before another birthday. Can’t believe how old the calendar says I have become. My body tells me it’s true, my head and heart disagree on many days.  It’s been a long while since I have had the inspiration to write down some thoughts.  It seems the past 18 months have zapped much of my energy, and a desire to share my thoughts. But today… I will try.

A few days ago, a social media friend inspired me to get back to my blog. We have never met in person, yet via social media, I feel a kinship.  He says I inspire him to get on his bike, a few days ago he posted a heartfelt note about his Dad, marking the anniversary of his death. It was a touching message that resonated with me, and for the first time, I felt that perhaps I had something to share again.

On so many days it truly feels like I am Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. So much changed in March of 2020.   So many aspects of our lives ground to a halt, and others changed direction abruptly.  And now we are approaching October of 2021 and it still feels like we can’t get any real wind in our sails.  When the first shutdown hit, it was certainly odd and a bit like the twilight zone. So much of our fast-paced life suddenly stopped, no school lunches to pack, no extracurricular sports, no movie theatres, no skating rinks, no trampoline parks, no visits with relatives and friends.  Logic would suggest that this would leave an abundance of energy to put into other areas, but that never materialized. Why?

Covid-19 has not only infected millions of people, but it has dramatically affected many of us in many other ways. And quite frankly it’s been exhausting. Yes, we have had more time, but conversely, Covid has made so many things more difficult.

While Covid has forced many things to grind to a halt, life and death have continued whether we wanted it to or not.  A month after the Covid lock down my father passed away unexpectedly. He’s been gone now for about 18 months, and I am still processing this life change.  Despite covid, we had to move ahead and deal with the necessities when a parent passes away. My mother had left us the year before, so now my sister and I are full-grown orphans. I should have been ready, but I wasn’t.  If my parents were still alive, did I really have to accept full adulthood?  Yet here we are.  A few weeks ago, I completed perhaps the last major responsibility of being the executor of his estate. With that comes another layer of finality. Symbols strike me at the strangest time. Dad’s chequebook is on my desk, and I realize that I won’t be needing that anymore.  I have thought about our relationship. I was lucky to have him in my life for over 50 years. When I was young, I was often told I was like my mom and her side of the family, fair-skinned, blonde-haired, and I spent a lot of time with my Mom as a youngster, as my mother was a stay at home mom for a number of years.  My Dad was a very hard-working guy, never one to take many vacations or days off. If he laid down on the couch it was newsworthy.  Yet he always made time for me and I spent so much time with him. He had a short temper and lacked patience on many things, yet he really was a very patient dad when we were alone together, and I now appreciate how he rarely shut me down, and just answered all the inane questions I peppered at him. I wish I had that patience with my own son, I guess it’s something to work on.  When I was a teen, we butted heads, mostly because I was choosing to spend time with my friends instead of with him. But despite all our disagreements, he always had my back, and I never doubted it.  And in recent years when photos were posted, I would get comments that I was so much like my Dad. As a young man, I was critical of my parents, now as a parent myself, I marvel at many of the things they did for me.   I wore one of my Dad’s shirts when I walked the dog tonight. Even though he has been gone a while he is still here, and I am still letting go.  

Covid has meant that many rights of passage have been missed by our family and our kids.  My kids weren’t able to mourn the death of a grandfather surrounded by extended family and friends. We couldn’t gather.  My Niece has a new son, who turned 1 in August, we have never met him in person, I have never held him.  The extended family has experienced illness, and we can’t visit to lend support.

My kids should have been in school, growing friendships, playing sports, having playdates. Instead, they were stuck spending many of their days in our house behind laptops, trying to listen to teachers. Teachers that had to learn on the fly, to teach subjects that were never meant to be taught online, with
minimal resources or help.  And I watched these kids struggle socially and academically, while we struggled to keep them healthy and do the next right thing. My son became a teenager this summer, and he was robbed of a celebration with friends.   He decided to have a conversation last night at 10:55PM, telling me he doubted Covid was going to end anytime soon. He was disturbed to see comments on a TikTok video about the vaccine showing many young people as anti-vaxers. He feels many of the limitations and requirements such as masks, social distancing, and limited school activities are here to stay. He’s not wrong, as we get closer to vaccination goals in this country, we will begin to have more freedoms, but it’s remarkably difficult to trust it.  He’s in grade 8, soon he will be graduating elementary school. What will that look like?  He should be worrying about first dates, not vaccines.

I was fortunate to have an employer that rolled with these challenges. And I was able to take the time required to be a dad first. But the stop-start, stop-start work thing has been trying.   Meanwhile, my better half kept soldiering on, working in a cobbled-together home office in the basement, competing for internet with 3 other laptops. The 4 of us occupying 2000 sq ft 24/7. Ahhh togetherness!   Oh and I forgot the dog! Bart was here too of course but he didn’t need a laptop.

I have experienced many changes and weird times over my years on this planet, but the past 18 months have amped up the weirdness.  For the first time in 20 years, we did not visit any extended family at Christmas. It was beyond strange to have a laptop on our dining room table at Christmas dinner, with a zoom call, camera on, with my in-laws. Because it was the only way we could be “together” at a time we were always together.  The oddest part, trying to make it seem “normal” for the sake of the kids. It was not normal…  

It has been remarkable how difficult things became, that once were simple.  Covid meant no babysitters, which meant no date nights…for 18 months. 6 weeks ago, we finally managed a breakfast

“out” together with no kids in tow. It was fabulous, and weird, at the same time. 

What’s the new normal going to look like?  Will the anger and hostility in our society calm down? Will it be possible to give somebody a hug without having 2^nd thoughts about appropriateness and risk? Will, what was once simple, be simple again? Will it be possible to make long-term plans with confidence that they won’t have to be canceled? Will it be possible to have a 5-minute conversation with a friend that doesn’t end up being about Covid?  I remain optimistic that we will come out the other side of this, but it’s been a long journey.  

I am not sure what I am trying to convey here. Perhaps it’s to justify to myself why I feel the way I do. I’m sorry if this comes across as a bit of a downer, but writing has always been therapeutic for me and I’m glad it’s out of me now. There are so many people that have stories much more trying than mine. I get that. But man I’m tired.

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.  

     

Teaching Our kids Positivity in a Negative World

As a kid I distinctly remember the yearly Remembrance Day services at our schools. It was a very solemn and serious occasion. We were taught to respect and treasure our Veterans, for putting their lives on the line so we could live in freedom. My parents, immigrants from Germany, warned of the dangers of Nationalism.  I grew up in the time of the cold war and we were taught about the importance of alliances, of working together, and the value of knocking down borders and walls.

Remember Ronald Reagan, a Republican, and his famous speech given at the Berlin Wall? “Mr. Gorbachev tear down this wall”. We saw that wall come down less than 3 years later. In 1990 I walked through the Brandenburg gate into what had been East Germany.

Here we are today 30+ years later, and we have a new U.S. President that denounces alliances, insults allies and is pushing hard to build new walls.  And now with my young son watching the 100^th anniversary or the end of WW1, I have to answer his question of why the current American President is not attending. How do you explain that to a 10-year-old?  How do I explain it to myself?

We are incredibly fortunate to be living in Canada, arguably the best country in the world to live in 2018. It’s easily one of the top 5 best places to raise a family.  But we are not immune to what ails the world these days.  We can become complacent or arrogant, thinking the politics of hate, division, racism, nationalism won’t come here… but it is here.  We see it with media organizations like Rebel Media, with Mayoral candidates like Faith Goldy, and with Alt Right social media trolls that spread hate and intolerance.  So as a parent how do we sift through this information and teach our children the difference between valid differences of opinion, versus hate and fear mongering?  Is shutting down hate speech, and calling out lies, an attack on freedom of speech?

How do we teach our kids to respect tradition, and to be truthful, when political leaders blatantly lie, repeatedly & brazenly?  And we have political “leaders” that show no respect to tradition, legal processes, or convention. How is it that the supposed leader of the free world could avoid a Remembrance Day ceremony in France, choosing instead to launch insults on Twitter? I guess I was naïve when 3 years ago I didn’t imagine such a thing could be possible.  

We can bury our heads in the sand, but in my backyard, a Mayoral Candidate that has been charged with hate crimes, managed to get over 13% of the vote? Who are these voters? These people? What are they teaching their kids? What are they teaching them about LGBTQ rights? What are they teaching their kids about immigrants, refugees, and Muslims or Jews? These people live in our neighbourhoods. Their kids go to our schools.

I took my son on a road trip to the Ford Museum in Detroit, on display is the bus where Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat, and water fountains from the segregation era marked “whites” and “coloreds”. It was a great teaching opportunity. We would like to think the battles of the 60’s are behind us, then we have white supremacists running for political office in our municipal and provincial elections?!

We teach our kids about love and tolerance, we teach them that colour, race, religion is not about making people more than or less than, or right or wrong.  And than we come home to find hate literature in our mailbox. Some may say that I am over reacting, and this is all much ado about nothing. But I don’t believe that to be the case.  There is an undercurrent of discontent that many political leaders refuse to address, or worse, they feel they can use it to their advantage. But much of that discontent comes from the growing disparity between the very rich and everyone else. It’s time we stopped judging the economy on how well the rich are doing.  Until our “moderate” leadership accept the facts of this discontent and address it, the hate and resentment will continue to grow. 

So…what is the answer? I wish I could see a clear path out of this mess, but I don’t.  What I do know is that when good people stay home on election day and remain quiet in their communities it gives licence to the chaos. We need to find our voices, and our courage to use them with our kids, our families, our neighbours, our schools, and with our politicians.     

What Nobody Told Me 11 Years Ago About Becoming a Dad.

I am the first to admit that I post a lot of family pictures on social media.  We may be that family you hate on Facebook… Plenty of comments, bloopers, and check-in’s with my kids on whatever adventures we may be undertaking.  However, I don’t make a habit of posting the challenging times, when the kids are fighting, not listening, and falling off their bikes.  So, it’s not unusual to get comments from social media friends that they suspect my family is the ultimate parenting experience, just another slice of paradise.  When I hear comments like “You’re such a great parent, you do so much with your kids” I do cringe inside. And must remind people that what they see on Social Media is not an accurate reflection of my families every day life, far from it. In fact, there are days when I wonder how I got into this parenting deal, and I feel totally ill equipped for the journey I am on.  Thank God I have other Dad’s in my life that remind me that I am not alone. They share their similar experiences.  And I often wonder why nobody warned me about what I was getting myself into?  Okay, they probably did, but I wasn’t listening, so I already know where my kids got their listening skills. Those of you who know me, already expect plenty of sarcasm here, and know that I have no regrets in becoming a Dad.  But here are a few things I didn’t know before this parenting adventure started.

1. I knew that parents were often tired. I didn’t know that my sleep patterns that I had enjoyed for 40 years would be changed, apparently forever!  I think “baby monitors” may have been one of the worst inventions ever. I suspect this device did a great job to insure my wife and I never had a full nights’ sleep for the first 2 years of each of our kid’s life.  

As a parent you already develop a keen sense of hearing, that I guess is nature's way to help you be the caregiver you need to be.  Baby makes a peep and the parental radar responds.  The baby monitor exploited that already keen sense by putting that speaker 3 feet from my head in our bedroom.  Now not only would a baby cry wake me, but every crib squeak, cough or heavy breath was amplified. The result being either jumping out of bed to attend, or laying in bed wide awake listening for more evidence of distress, wondering if your partner also heard and might get up this time. And inevitably feeling guilty for not jumping up right away. In hindsight I wonder if the baby monitors are a help or hinderance.  Combine the amplified baby monitor issues, with the normal parenting challenges of kids getting sick, falling out of bed, having nightmares, wetting the bed during potty training, and just knocking on our door at 5 am, asking if it’s “wake up time” yet. The result is the once nightly ritual of a solid uninterrupted 8 hours of sleep is just a distant memory. 

2. I had no idea that having “me time” or some solo space would be so challenging as a parent. Admittedly I was a little late to get into parenting game, with the firstborn arriving on the scene when I was already 41, and the next arriving 6 years later. 

One could argue that I should have been “more ready” as I had enjoyed over 20 years of adulthood to “sow my wild oats” so to speak.  However, as an involved father, the ability to eek out some solo adult time is more challenging than I had expected.  Perhaps the biggest hindrance is me… Who knew that the bond to my kids would be so strong that I want to be apart of so much of what they do.  Who knew that the guilt would be so strong, when saddling my more than capable partner with the full parenting duties, so I can grab a few hours on my bike? Go away for a weekend with the boys? Not for this dad.  Admittedly this has started to improve as my kids have gotten older. My now 10 year old son doesn’t actually want to spend all waking hours with me, he has friends of his own now. And my 4 year old daughter is happy to hang out with Mom.  But I can still be struck with guilt as I sneak quietly out of the back yard with cycling shorts on, bike ready to go, and my son comes busting in, with a “can I come?”   Is "no" an option?

   

3. I do know that I wasn’t the perfect child, but I don’t remember growing up with the daily arguments in our home. I was not prepared to have children that were apparently born knowing everything, or more accurately, believing they know everything.  I remember the old saying: “When I was 14 I couldn’t believe how dumb my dad was, when I was 20 I couldn’t believe how much he had learned in 6 years.”  My question is; do I have to wait 20 years before my kids stop arguing with me about everything?  The arguments are often preceded by the REPETITION of the same request 26 TIMES…such as “brush your teeth” or “eat your dinner” or “flush the toilet!” the common reply of course is “I know!” And “Why are you yelling at me.” And of course with full activation of the victim card. My kid’s teachers tell me my kids are smart, they do well in school. But apparently the ability to remember to flush the toilet, or turn off a light,  is not a measurement of intellect.

4. My wife and I knew that the spontaneity of our social life would take a big hit when we had kids.  

Who knew that baby sitters were so expensive and hard to find? Who knew that having NO extended family nearby would have such an impact. Who knew that planning visits to friends had to work around naptimes and bedtimes?  Who knew that we would be perpetually tired so that “date nights” mean falling asleep in the movie theatre and still being in bed by 10:30pm.

But I can say I really had no understanding of how much our social life, or lack there of, would change. Who knew that despite best efforts it’s

  just too much to stay up to midnight to ring in the New Year?! ZZZZzzzzz.

Undoubtedly, these are all “first world” complaints, and written with tongue planted in cheek.  I can say that on an almost daily basis I am grateful that I don’t have to do the parenting thing alone. I take my hat off to all the single parents out there doing it all on their own, day in and day out.  Any single parent would read this blog with some massive eye rolls I’m sure. (if they had time)   I’m also grateful for all the time, energy and patience my parents bestowed on me when I was a kid, and now do with their grandkids.  And I am grateful for other parenting bloggers and friends that share their experiences with humour and hope.  

Resistance is Essential...

Perhaps since the beginning of time, parents have wanted the world to be a better place for their kids. I know it’s not a new phenomenon for parents to be concerned about the state of the world. However, I have to say my anxiety has certainly ramped up in the past few years. Maybe I spend too much time on social media, and the real world has not really changed that much…but it sure feels different now than it did a short while ago.

I hate to mention his name, because I am so tired of hearing about the latest craziness, day in and day out, since the last American general election.  Unfortunately burying my head in the sand isn’t an option when I have to live in a connected world, AND raise two young kids in this atmosphere. So what’s changed?

I am fully aware that the world was a far from perfect place long before DT became the so called leader of the free world. But we seem to have entered a new era where a backlash against progress is gaining momentum, and people seem to now feel free to openly show their racism, sexism and intolerance.  Hate is no longer something to keep hidden, but should be celebrated and shouted from the streets, and of course on Twitter, and the on line comments section of every Main Stream Media site.   Not everyone is open about their hatred, the Internet has created many “keyboard warriors” that can spout hate from the anonymous safety of their basements and living rooms.  But there sure is a plethora of it out there these days…in our face every day.

I guess I was naive to think that things were getting better, and that my daughter would have it easier than my mother or her mother in our society.  We go back to 1921 in Canada, 1920 in the U.S.  when some women were given the right to vote, and the first female M.P. was elected… you would think that in almost 100 years this would be accepted as a norm. Not if you’re Richard Spencer, a white supremacist, who not only is a racist, but not surprisingly doesn’t believe women should have the right to vote either. He believes America is for White Men period. This guy was left to the fringe before Trump, but now is being “normalized” by the mainstream media as the current U.S. administration legitimises the fringe haters.    

I grew up in a time where our leaders, not without their flaws, took the higher road and challenged us to be better, challenged the ignorance, brought education to counter fear of the new and the different.  It was a time where borders and walls were things we worked to tear down, not to build new ones.  A Republican President even offered a challenge to his cold war counter- part to “tear down this wall”. And it did come down.  Now we have Brexit in Britain, and POTUS promising to build a wall along the Mexican border, and tearing up international trade agreements.  We now have leaders openly challenging scientific theory with convenient opinions and conspiracy theories.  So called “leaders” are now dismissing education and the educated as “elitists”.  So apparently it’s now a bad thing to educate oneself with recognised methodology.  Are we really going down the “facts don’t matter” road?  We shouldn’t be too smug in Canada, Toronto had its’ own taste of it with Rob Ford and Ezra Levant. The modus operandi of this ilk, is that the message need not be true, but if repeated often enough with conviction it would get normalised and treated as an “alternative fact”.  Which of course is total bull shit, but the media has repeatedly fallen for this trap.  Giving Alex Jones and Steve Bannon free prime time air time to spout their agendas is proof of the media’s abandonment of journalistic principles.

I took my young son to Detroit last summer and in the Henry Ford Museum I was able to talk to him about segregation and human rights, showing him the bus Rosa Parks made famous, and water fountains marked clearly for “whites” and “coloureds”. I was able to explain to him that the struggles and protests were not about bus seats or fountains, but the right to be treated equally.  But today POTUS challenges people’s right to protest peacefully as unpatriotic and treasonous, unless you are a white supremacist.

We see the movie industry reeling from the bad publicity that Harvey Weinstein abused his power for decades, exploiting and sexually abusing young women.  For decades it was covered up and tolerated by many. Weinstein was not alone, nor is the movie industry. Excuses abound, and the comment sections abound with belligerent messages blaming the victims, rather than the actual perpetrators.  But then again, the current U.S. President was caught on audio tape admitting to the same behaviour and he went on to be elected to the highest office in the country. His chief opponent was a woman, who faced incredible intimidation and misogyny throughout the lengthy campaign and beyond.  How do I explain that to my daughter?   

I find it very sad that women today feel the need to post #MeToo and share their stories, for fear of sliding further backwards.  I find it troubling that my black friends are distrusting of our police, and are harassed for being of colour while driving “nice” cars.  I find it troubling that my friends of various religions, feel increasingly vulnerable and segregated.  The Quebec “Burka Ban” is a clear example of pandering to fear and ignorance, instead of providing true leadership and education.

So as a parent, and largely a part of the silent decent majority (I hope), I am finding I can no longer just sit quietly when the hate and ignorance erupts around me. My kids are watching…and if there is ever a need for “modelling behaviour” as a parent, it’s now. For example it happened this summer at the sidelines of my kids soccer practise, where 1 parent began with the hate talk against immigrants and refugees followed by some clearly racist remarks. In the past I likely would have remained silent. I would not get involved as this was rare right? Well now I believe this behaviour and attitude must be challenged.  I spoke up and pointed out that I was the product of immigrants, as are most Canadians. I also pointed out “facts” about where crime etc., actually originated. I wasn’t angry but I was firm and unwavering, and after I spoke up, others joined in to support me. That parent was not seen for the remainder of the summer practises.

 Apparently the haters have found their platforms, along with some high profile supporters and have some wind in their sails. But all is not lost. At one level this glut of hate may pay off in the long run, at least now much of the hate and ignorance has been exposed. We now know the scope of the work ahead. If we can challenge the lies, educate those around them, do the next right thing and VOTE… we have a fighting chance.