Father's Day 2016

 

Father's Day

Sunday, June 19, 2016

 Me and my daddy on my third birthday.

My father died 28 years ago in April. I will never forget getting Mom's phone call in the middle of the night. He was only 67 years old. Now that I am older than that, 67 seems so young.

My parents were married during the war. Daddy worked as a radio operator for the Department of Transport. He was stationed in Happy Valley Goose Bay. I don't know much about what it was like for my parents during that time but as a navy wife in the 60's, I have a bit of understanding about what it was like to be separated for weeks and months at a time.

After the war, we lived in Lakeburn which is near Moncton in New Brunswick. I don't remember those years because I was just an infant and toddler. I do remember when we lived in Kingston, Nova Scotia. I started school in Greenwood at a school for air force kids.
I remember visiting my father at work. He let me play with the typewriter.

It was my father who taught me how to knit. I am not sure who taught him but it was probably my grandmother. When he worked the night shift, Daddy used to knit mittens for us.

When I was 12, my father left his government job to pursue his dream of farming. He had worked on a farm when he was a teen. The farm was back in the community where my parents grew up. I was excited to be close to my grandparents.

Those were hard years for my parents. Of course I had no idea. When my brother was old enough to start school, my mother went back to teaching for a few years. We had milk cows and chickens. He bought more land when he could.

After my husband and I moved to Ontario with (at that time) his only grandsons, my father would call in the spring to see when we were planning our annual trip home to Nova Scotia. How he loved his grandchildren and how they loved him. When my daughter was born, my parents made their first trip to Ontario. After that they would come every other year. One year, they were able to be with us for Christmas. How special is that memory!

My father was an amateur photographer. He had his own darkroom in the house. He taught me to develop pictures. It was such fun. I think he would enjoy a digital camera.
He would have fun with a computer too. We were starting to hear more about them before he died. I know he was curious about what it would be like to have one.

My father was not very fond of ice cream but when the kids and I were home in the summer, he would make sure to take us to the popular ice cream spot.

I am so thankful for my father. How I wish we could have another conversation.