Photo: Metro Theatre

Today I dedicate this post to my dad.

Growing up, my dad was the kind of dad who would do anything for his kids. I know he did many, MANY things he didn’t want to do and I know he worried more about me and my brother than he perhaps had to… because he loved us with a heart of gold.

My dad coached my brother’s soccer team for as long as I can remember and always made it to my games too. My dad encouraged me to sing when I was just tiny… long before my shyness or stage fright ever kicked in. My dad waited up night after night during my teen years even when he was the kind of person who would rather get up and start his day at 3am than end his day at 2am. My dad encouraged me to join the military; my dad taught me I can do anything I want to do with enough effort and dedication.

My dad took me skiing even though he wasn’t very good at it. My dad tried to convince me once there was a pancake day, but shhhh… don’t tell mom. My dad always had the stuff I decided I needed to do whatever build-it/fix-it/craft project I tried… he had a million tools. Not sure he even ever used any of them, but whatever… My dad took me on a moped when we were on our summer vacation and spent $1000 on an early VHS machine. My dad always seemed to know what to do when the car would break down at the side of the road… he probably just called AAA.

My dad used to teach school children. On my professional days sometimes he’d bring me to work with him… I loved it! I felt like a celebrity because I got to go in the staff room with the other teachers. My dad joined a band and decided he wanted to learn to play the tenor sax while I was learning to play the trumpet. Sometimes he would take me to sit in at his adult beginner band. At my own band concerts, my dad was the guy you could hear wolf-whistle at the end of every song… he still does.

My dad taught me some very valuable lessons including encouraging me to establish a career before settling down, getting married and having kids (in that order). My dad used to work really hard… I remember report card time. Any kid of a teacher knows about report card time… days and days of late nights and early mornings. I know he put his heart into knowing every one of his students. That’s just the kind of teacher he was. I remember waking up to his records… classical or jazz… my dad adores music.

My dad is 75 years old today.

He and my mom travel pretty extensively now – a few months every year. He also is an active member of his community and has become very involved in community theatre. In fact, he’s in a play called A Nice Family Gathering opening today at Metro Theatre Vancouver – he’s such a good actor I keep telling him he should get an agent and try for movie roles, but that’s probably more my dream for him than his… I’m so proud of him for filling his golden years with rich friendships, arts and the world. I’m so proud of him and my mom for being married to each other for nearly 50 years. I’m so proud of him for always thinking of me and my brother… and for choosing us.

Happy Birthday Dad. I love you.

I hope one day you’ll find the time or the inclination to write down all your wisdom to share with me… you know I missed most of it.