Dad's Birthday

Today is my dad’s birthday. He would be 59. As I sit here sipping coffee, I am forcing myself to think that today is a day of celebration, NOT sadness, because although he is no longer here on earth, my father had this “talent” for lack of better word to impact everyone he met. Dad was the type of man that I could laugh with, go to for advice, or get help with math and science. He was incredibly patient, and the most sensible person I have ever known. I sit here chuckling to myself as memories come flooding back to me and I thought I would share them…

Dad had this love for the outdoors and camping. Fortunately, he passed that love down to me, and I loved, and still do love camping. One camping trip in particular I remember was a summer I was about 10 or 11. We had Grandpa Norris’ green camper van, and we were heading to Washington state to go camping for a few days before I was to spend a few days with my cousins at their trailer. We were listening to weird Al Yankovic (don’t judge) and singing along, when dad got the idea we should make up our own song. We started creating our own words to “Do Wah Ditty” and changed them to “Oooh What A Dumb Twitty”. I don’t remember all the words, just one line that said “She was a gorilla with a purse” I thought it was hysterical.

Dad and I had a special bond where we both had a love of music. He even tried to teach me how to play the accordion! I say tried because I wasn’t very good at it. Once I learned how to play the flute, we would have these “jam” sessions, dad on the accordion, and me on my flute. I shake my head and smile and feel bad for our poor neighbours. When I was little, dad was part of a cover band called “Angelheart” I was in LOVE with the band. I loved when he’d go to band practice, and I got special permission to go down and listen to them play. I was a real groupie. Sometimes, if I was really quiet and good, I got to sing with them. Pretty sure I was one of the few 7 year olds that knew all the words to songs like “Hurt So Good” “Shot Through the Heart” “Little Red Riding Hood” and “Stray Cat Strut” to name a few. For Christmas one year, dad had compiled a list of songs they recorded, and made a cd for me. I still have it to this day, and I still listen to it frequently. One day I hope to pass it down to my kids so they can hear what Grandpa Mike sounded like.

Another thing dad passed down to me was the love of hockey, and in particular the Vancouver Canucks.  When I was little, I loved Hockey Night in Canada nights when the Canucks would play, because it meant we’d go over to the Marsden’s or they’d come to our house, I got to stay up late and eat chips and drink pop, and watch hockey. Although I didn’t fully understand what was going on, I loved that I’d cheer when dad cheered, and yell at the referee when dad would yell. As I got older and started to understand the game, it became a special quality time with dad, and he taught me the love of the game and the rules. When I moved to Ottawa with dad and Mary, we turned our loyalty over to the Ottawa Senators (with a strong love for the Canucks in our back pockets). Dad and I would sit in front of the tv and cheer on the team, or blame the refs for the loss. When playoffs came, and Mary had gone to bed, dad and I would sit with baited breath and wait for the golden goal, cheering at the top of our lungs, waking Mary and most likely giving her a heart attack. Even though dad is gone, I still watch the games with that same baited breath, cheering loudly, and calling the refs “one eyed son of a monkey’s uncle”

Dad also taught me how to drive. I was so excited when I got my learners, I begged my dad to take me out, thinking “okay we’ll go to a parking lot and he’ll teach me how to drive in circles” Oh how wrong I was. He drove to this one long stretch of road that was 80km/h, pulled over and got out. “Okay Lisa, drive” I was crying, swerving and freaking out. Dad, in his calm voice told me to calm down, and look straight ahead. In no time I was driving! When it was time for me to do my road test, dad picked me up from school and drove to the course, and made me practice until I had it down pat. I passed on the first try with flying colours!

Dad was also someone I knew I could go to for advice, and not be judged. When I was 15, I was bullied. I’m deaf in my left ear, and the doctor thought it would be a good idea to wear a hearing aid, and talk to a hearing specialist, IN HIGHSCHOOL. People caught wind of this, and they were relentless with the bullying. On one of the weekends at my dads, we were working on putting a roof on the shed, and I opened up to him. I told him that I hated being bullied and I didn’t know how to deal with it. He told me that when he was in HS, he was bullied a lot for his size, and he decided to roll with it, until one of the bullies pushed him so far, he punched the bully in the face, almost breaking his nose. The bully left him alone after that. Now dad wasn’t saying I should punch someone in the face, but to let it roll of my back. If I needed to stand up for myself, he would back me up. I decided to take his advice and the bullying stopped for the most part. I also “lost” the hearing aid, so I didn’t have to wear it anymore, and when I moved to a new school, I made the decision to not let anyone know about my partial deafness. A lot of people don’t know I’m partially deaf either.

Another time I went to my dad for advice was when I was 19. I was dating a guy, and his friend was having a party, and invited us to go and spend the night. I was terrified. I knew what spending the night meant, and wasn’t sure if I was “ready”. I asked dad what I should do, and instead he told me what he would do, which was to follow his gut. He asked me how I felt about it, and I told him I was terrified and not ready. Needless to say, the guy I was dating dumped me soon after, and I realized that I made the right decision.

All this being said, I miss my dad. I miss singing with him, playing cribbage with him, watching hockey, or just chatting. I’m sad that my husband never got to meet him, and that when I have kids, they won’t know who their grandpa Mike was. I hope my dad is proud of me. I try to be like him, and when a tough situation arises, I try to think how he would advise me. I also hope that I can pass things down to my kids that my dad passed down to me. But I think I’ll leave the accordion playing to him.

Happy Birthday Dad. I miss you and love you.