A Year Ago Today - In Memoriam of My Father

 A year ago today, my father, Bruce Paterson, passed away at the age of 79. I miss him a great deal, but I know he is in a better place now.  Dad and I shared a lot in common, and particularly we bonded over music, beer, and a similar sense of humour (not necessarily in that order). I have a lot of fond memories whiling many a hot summer afternoon away out on his front porch, drinking cold beers and listening to some great rock music. We wore sombreros and looked like rednecks to all cars passing by, and we couldn't care less about it! Dad loved tapping his feet and playing air guitar to the sounds of The Band, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Clapton, The Beatles, and so on. I was a little more reserved with demonstrating my passion for the music, but watching Dad get into the groove was truly infectious and good for the soul.   Through that time, Dad and I were each other's best friends. He also pushed me to take a course and set goals for myself, and with his guidance I ended up embarking on a two-year adventure overseas to teach English. I had always dreamed of doing something like that, and he finally gave me the push I needed. 

Dad and I shared a truly incredible correspondence of long, epic letters to one another while I was in that faraway land, sharing details of our lives at that time. As I was cleaning out his apartment, I found my letters to him that he had filed away meticulously. I was choked up reading through them, and reliving the sense of love and comradery we had for one another. I was amazed by my father at that time in his life, as he had just retired after a 30 year career in education, and went back to school to learn woodworking. He became an artisan in his mid-fifties, building a workshop in his backyard and creating furniture and crafts to sell at local markets. It is astounding to me to think that I am now close to the age he was back then. Dad shared a lot of details about his daily life of working in his shop and making benches, rocking chairs, picture frames and such. He would load them all up in his van and head off to markets on the weekends hoping to land a few sales to augment his pension. Dad tended to look at it as a second career, as opposed to a hobby or leisurely activity, but that had a lot to do with the fact that he was often cash-strapped back in those days. 

I feel fortunate and grateful that I was there for Dad when he needed me the most, and that I was able to pay it forward in the end. I am also very grateful that his time was then and not now, with all that is going on with COVID. I believe it would have been very hard on my Dad not having regular contact with us, or other friends and family. I love you, Dad, and I miss you deeply. I will most definitely have a beer or two in your honour later.