I said goodbye to my Dad at 5:30am this morning before I started the 12hr drive back home. After celebrating his 80th birthday with him yesterday, it was one of the more memorable goodbyes.
When I turned 13 my Dad started treating me like a man. The days of holding his hand as we walked up from the field to the house for dinner ended. The hugs turned to handshakes. The words “I love you” were replaced by approving nods. The expectation of taking care of the chores and not being a slacker when he was away on business were non negotiable.
Through the next three decades of my early and middle adulthood, any hint of affection from me or even a simple attempt at a hug when leaving after a visit was met with a stiffness and a seeming disdain for anything resembling emotion.
This morning I shook my Dad’s hand before I left. He thanked me for the visit and even told me how much it meant that I took the time to come over from a province away for his birthday.
As we parted I gave him a hug and said “I love you Dad.” as I turned away. And for the first time in 40 years that hard ass said “Love you too.” Blew me away lol.
I’m going to miss him when he’s gone. I’ll be forever thankful for his quiet, Spartan reserve, that he instilled a work ethic in his kids, and that he taught me to “mean it” when I do or say something. #dadstr
