I don’t remember very many of my dad’s jokes. He wasn’t the “dad joke” type. There is one, though, that I remember him telling me and my younger sister when we were kids, sitting in the car, as he drove past a cemetery on a rural highway (likely in the Laurentians). Okay, here goes, please don’t hold my one dad joke against me …
My dad: “See this cemetery on my left? Did you know that the people who live on the other side of the highway can’t be buried in that cemetery? Do you want to know why?”
Me and my sister: “Why?”
My dad: “Because they aren’t dead yet.”
Dad jokes.
In choosing just a few words, as I think about Father’s Day tomorrow, I’m not sure what to say. My father has had a more profound affect than anyone (other than my daughters) on how I live my life, even though he lived only until I was sixteen.
His parting gift, the lesson learned: life is short, every day could be my last. Be thankful for each one of those days. Understood, dad, understood.
A few other things that I learned from my father, in honour of the day: integrity, humility, self-reflection, self-worth; being open-minded as well as analytical; patience, thoughtfulness, tenderness; a sense of solid footing and the ability to remain calm in a storm (although I do have a stormy side, but that’s from my mother).
So … to the fathers out there, to those with fathers in their lives, to the loving uncles and the lovely longtime-family-friend-father-figures … I hope that you have many reasons (I know that I do) to see tomorrow as a happy Father’s Day.
a few words ... from Montréal 