My dad died 15 years ago yesterday. All day, I wrestled with whether or not I should write about it. Because if I write about every chronologically significant moment in my or my family’s history, it could easily become the only thing I ever share here.
But I also didn’t want to look back and wish I had had the opportunity to say something, but didn’t. So here we are.
Of my and my wife’s parents, his loss was our first, and as we navigated the days, weeks, and months that followed in what seemed like a fog, we at least had the benefit of our surviving parents and in-laws to lean on.
15 years on, the landscape is decidedly more stark. Debbie’s parents are no longer with us, and the passage of time has cruelly picked off even more branches of our family tree beyond that central trunk. We used to look to others for answers, but these days, all eyes seem to look to us. Now it feels like we’re the adults in the room.
I’d like to think my father was happy with what he accomplished and with what he left behind. I often look at this photo of him walking our son, Noah, then aged 6, near their place north of Montreal. Despite the rushed composition and blown highlights, it’s one of my favourite photos.
My dad lived long enough to see his grandchildren come into the world, and to thrive. They carry those memories forward as they establish themselves in their own life’s journeys. That’s a blessing in its own right, isn’t it?
In the day-to-day, he surrounded himself with friends, packed his calendar with adventures near and far, and always seemed to find his way into the middle of the limelight. He was easy to find in a crowded room. More importantly, he loved my mom.
Was he perfect? Far from it. But no one ever is, anyway, and in his perfectly well-intentioned imperfection, he established a pretty reasonable template for me to build from.
After 15 years, I remain thankful to have had him for as long as we did, and hope I’m not the only one thinking of him and churning the full spectrum of memories as we mark another year in a progression that only moves one direction. Away.
#ldnont #laval #montreal #lifeinthemargins #family #everything
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