Dear Dad,
It seems a long time since we've had a chance to talk, except superficially,
and that's my fault.
You are always there for me, as you have been ever since I was born.
Have I told you lately how much that has always meant to me? Probably
not, because, like so many people, I have trouble telling those I care about
most just how much I really love them.
Even though I don't see you as often as I'd like to, I am aware, every day, of
your presence in my life and the influence you have had on me.
I don't remember being a month-old baby, but I do remember every time I
look at the old broken down rocking chair, the story of how you sat up with
me the night before my christening, rocking me because I had colic and
wouldn't stop crying.
I also remember the other part of the story - how the rocker broke and you
hurt yourself to make sure I wasn't hurt.
I vaguely remember our time in Kelowna, when you carried me around the
orchard, even during busy times, so I could have the fun of picking the fruit
that was way out of the grasp of my anxious two-year-old hands.
And I do remember that when I decided to catch minnows with your shoes,
you didn't punish me. You just made sure that I didn't get too deep into the
water.
I remember sitting on your lap as a child, laughing and playing. I will never
forget the day I flung back my hand, hit you in the face and knocked out
your partial plate.
It took you over an hour to convince me to come out from under my bed, to
make me believe I hadn't knocked out half a dozen of your teeth!
I think a lot of people would have laughed at me and given up, figuring I'd
come out eventually.
Later, I remember you coming home from work and stripping the old paint
off the walls of my room, just so could paint it in the pink and grey that I
decided that I wanted. Did I ever thank you for that?
And did I ever tell you how much the corsages you gave me for musical
recitals, meant to me?
To this day when I smell roses, I think of them.
Yellow roses are still my favourites - and you were the only person who ever
gave me corsages made of yellow roses.
There were all the times when you gave up your evenings to drive me to
music lessons and Girl Guides and church events.
The distance wasn't very great, but you cared so much that you wouldn't let
me walk home in the evenings.
There were all the times you bandaged my cuts and bruises and sat beside me
when I was upset about something. I know now some of the worries and
fears that were plaguing you at the time, but always you protected me from
them.
My upset stomachs or childish heartbreaks were always given priority.
I remember the big gifts you gave me, but more than those, I remember the
small things - the special pen that I wanted, the ice cream cone at the zoo,
the tiny plant because I wanted to see if I could grow something,
the small tins painted to match my room so I could store my childhood
treasures in them, the 5 cent stamp I needed to complete a series that took
you weeks to find.
Those are the tangible things, Dad, and they were important because every
one said "I love you."
But they don't begin to touch the intangible things you gave me.
There was always your love and your unquestioning acceptance of me, even -
maybe especially - at the times I just couldn't accept myself and what I had
done.
That love taught me to love;
the acceptance of me as I am;
showed me how to accept others.
Your pride in me taught me self-respect.
Your honest tears taught me that emotions are okay.
Your laughter taught me fun.
Your faith opened the door to believe for me.
Your silent patriotism –
you never did show me your medals, you know.
I had to find them for myself –
developed in me the love I have for this country.
And you will ask me, at some time in the future, if you really did teach me
these things, because underneath all the loving and giving is a humility that
makes you surprised when people compliment you.
It's probably just as well you didn't realize
how great you are, Dad.
You'd be intolerable if you knew!
I love you.
Stephani Keer
-Special Praise for a Dear Dad
The above is from the Calgary Sun on Sunday June 16, 1985 - Father's Day
(the footnote reads: Stephani Keer's column appears on Page 11 Sunday).
Contributed by Carolyn Richards
It seems a long time since we've had a chance to talk, except superficially,
and that's my fault.
You are always there for me, as you have been ever since I was born.
Have I told you lately how much that has always meant to me? Probably
not, because, like so many people, I have trouble telling those I care about
most just how much I really love them.
Even though I don't see you as often as I'd like to, I am aware, every day, of
your presence in my life and the influence you have had on me.
I don't remember being a month-old baby, but I do remember every time I
look at the old broken down rocking chair, the story of how you sat up with
me the night before my christening, rocking me because I had colic and
wouldn't stop crying.
I also remember the other part of the story - how the rocker broke and you
hurt yourself to make sure I wasn't hurt.
I vaguely remember our time in Kelowna, when you carried me around the
orchard, even during busy times, so I could have the fun of picking the fruit
that was way out of the grasp of my anxious two-year-old hands.
And I do remember that when I decided to catch minnows with your shoes,
you didn't punish me. You just made sure that I didn't get too deep into the
water.
I remember sitting on your lap as a child, laughing and playing. I will never
forget the day I flung back my hand, hit you in the face and knocked out
your partial plate.
It took you over an hour to convince me to come out from under my bed, to
make me believe I hadn't knocked out half a dozen of your teeth!
I think a lot of people would have laughed at me and given up, figuring I'd
come out eventually.
Later, I remember you coming home from work and stripping the old paint
off the walls of my room, just so could paint it in the pink and grey that I
decided that I wanted. Did I ever thank you for that?
And did I ever tell you how much the corsages you gave me for musical
recitals, meant to me?
To this day when I smell roses, I think of them.
Yellow roses are still my favourites - and you were the only person who ever
gave me corsages made of yellow roses.
There were all the times when you gave up your evenings to drive me to
music lessons and Girl Guides and church events.
The distance wasn't very great, but you cared so much that you wouldn't let
me walk home in the evenings.
There were all the times you bandaged my cuts and bruises and sat beside me
when I was upset about something. I know now some of the worries and
fears that were plaguing you at the time, but always you protected me from
them.
My upset stomachs or childish heartbreaks were always given priority.
I remember the big gifts you gave me, but more than those, I remember the
small things - the special pen that I wanted, the ice cream cone at the zoo,
the tiny plant because I wanted to see if I could grow something,
the small tins painted to match my room so I could store my childhood
treasures in them, the 5 cent stamp I needed to complete a series that took
you weeks to find.
Those are the tangible things, Dad, and they were important because every
one said "I love you."
But they don't begin to touch the intangible things you gave me.
There was always your love and your unquestioning acceptance of me, even -
maybe especially - at the times I just couldn't accept myself and what I had
done.
That love taught me to love;
the acceptance of me as I am;
showed me how to accept others.
Your pride in me taught me self-respect.
Your honest tears taught me that emotions are okay.
Your laughter taught me fun.
Your faith opened the door to believe for me.
Your silent patriotism –
you never did show me your medals, you know.
I had to find them for myself –
developed in me the love I have for this country.
And you will ask me, at some time in the future, if you really did teach me
these things, because underneath all the loving and giving is a humility that
makes you surprised when people compliment you.
It's probably just as well you didn't realize
how great you are, Dad.
You'd be intolerable if you knew!
I love you.
Stephani Keer
-Special Praise for a Dear Dad
The above is from the Calgary Sun on Sunday June 16, 1985 - Father's Day
(the footnote reads: Stephani Keer's column appears on Page 11 Sunday).
Contributed by Carolyn Richards
Soundtrack: Memories
Children have never been very good
at listening to their elders,
but they have never failed to imitate them.
-James Arthur Baldwin
The rules of parents are all but three …
Love, Limit and Let them be.
-Elaine M. Ward
at listening to their elders,
but they have never failed to imitate them.
-James Arthur Baldwin
The rules of parents are all but three …
Love, Limit and Let them be.
-Elaine M. Ward
To submit comments, requests or materials,
contact me at outreach@dawncoveabbey.org
contact me at outreach@dawncoveabbey.org
For empowerment workshops, seminars and lectures, see: http://www.dawncoveabbey.org/healing-circle
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MorningStar Inspiration from Dawn Cove Abbey
Article, haiku, humour and poem contributions are welcomed, and gratefully received
Layout & Design by DawnStar
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MorningStar Inspiration from Dawn Cove Abbey
Article, haiku, humour and poem contributions are welcomed, and gratefully received
Layout & Design by DawnStar
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DawnStar library graphic