Poor dad. We were always so hungover or just plain tired on his birthday. I don’t drink alcohol any more but still feel fairly wiped this morning. It’s all the excitement, preparation and texts texts texts! Will be nice to take it easy for a while and settle back into my usual routine.
My dad was a proud Canadian. He went to Upper Canada College and then the University of Toronto. A civil engineer, he settled into business and worked for a couple of large companies. He did well but found that teaching was more to his liking. Ending up at Ryerson university, he became the Dean of Business. But he didn’t take himself all that seriously. When friends came over they’d joke around, lightly calling him “Dean” and he’d always play along.
After retirement he and my mother had a wonderful time doing volunteer work in the 1990s with a Canadian organization (CESO/SACO) helping Eastern Europeans develop Western style businesses. He and mom went everywhere: Czech Republic, Poland, Russia, to name a few places. Dad and mom were well liked by Dad’s students and seminar participants, as evident from the old, analog photos they brought home.
I often think it ironic that dad tried so hard to help Eastern Europeans and I was literally bit in the a** by one at the University of Ottawa.
In this photo dad is visiting my great aunt in Cleveland, Ohio. She was a librarian there. A very kind, saintly woman who eventually moved up to Toronto. Because dad had been to UCC, he enlisted for Officer Training during WW-II.
Here he is, ready to go and risk his life for democracy and freedom.
Happy Birthday Dad! Even though you’re not here physically, I believe you’re around.