The Gifts of a Father

Have you ever sat down and thought about how much you resemble one of your parents? Has anyone ever said that you look just like your father when you make a certain expression or have one or more of his mannerisms? Have you ever yelled at one of your children and said something that your Dad had said to you when you were growing up and promised never to say that to your children? I think we can all probably relate to some of what I’m talking about. The funny thing is that most siblings see something different in their parents from each other and inherit some quality or uniqueness from their Mom or Dad made especially for them. It’s almost like they picked it out and said, “This is just for you. Carry it with you always. Perhaps you can do something better with it than me.” You may not totally agree with that statement but I’m sure you will find some truth in it.

I know for myself and my two brothers we seem to have all inherited something very unique to each of us from our father. Let me take a step back and give you a little of the history or at least how I perceived our father to be and the man he was and the man he became. I’m sure that if you were to ask my brothers how they perceived our Dad it might be totally different from my experience, but this is my story.

As a young man growing up in the Great Depression my father’s family had very little in terms of wealth and were always doing whatever they could to eke out a living. My Dad’s family had come from Scotland shortly after the First World War and were in search of a better life. My Dad would tell us stories of how he made toys and even a dollhouse for his sister from scraps of wood and material that he scrounged up from wherever he could. At the young age of 17 he enlisted in the Navy and proudly served his country during the Second World War. I believe he came back a changed person from those years in the Navy. He went in a boy and came home a man who had seen and experienced the horrors of war. It wasn’t until my dad was in his eighties that he actually opened up about those years. From what I could gather from the little he did talk about it, I sensed a feeling that although he got to see the world and made new friends, that he was not really proud of those days and there was a certain sadness in his tone as he related his experiences.

My Dad was always a hard worker and quite a skilled finished carpenter. From building his own house, cabinetry, jewellery boxes, and his beautiful wood carvings, he was a jack of all trades. Unfortunately as I remember, Dad was also a very dedicated employee to wherever he worked. That is a good thing for an employer but for a child it seemed to me that Dad was not home a lot and missed out on most of the things that were important to me as I was growing from child to manhood.

It wasn’t until my Dad retired that I can actually say that I began to have a real relationship with him. I can’t say that it was all his fault. I’m sure I wasn’t open to much he had to say as I was growing up and I’m sure I frustrated the hell out of him. Be that as it may, it is safe to say the apple may not have fallen too far from the tree.

Being that I was the first of the three sons to have children, I was surprised to see how much both my Mom and my Dad loved to come over and see their grandchildren and almost shocked to see my Dad sitting on the floor to play with them. Children can sure be a great icebreaker. Slowly the ice was beginning to melt between us and I was actually starting to listen to some of his advice and enjoying his visits to our home.

Unfortunately for my Dad he seemed to be sick on a regular basis over the last thirty years of his life. He was like the cat with nine lives, maybe even a few more than that. From wearing a colostomy bag for all those years, to tumours in his naval cavities, to spinal surgery on his neck, to heart problems, it seemed like he was always suffering with something very severe and yet he never gave up. He was a fighter that never went down for a ten count. He would always get back up off the mat and continue the good fight.

I truly believe it was in my Dad’s last decade or two of his life that I could honestly say how proud I was that he was my Father and even with all the crap that I may have perceived happened, I would not change a thing. I am very grateful for all of my life experiences and truly believe they have made me the man I am today.

So, with all that said, let me try to explain about those gifts that I believe that myself and each of my two brothers received from our Dad. They may seem a little out there and maybe a little abstract but don’t forget this is all from my point of view.

It has been said that there are three main components to each person’s makeup or psyche; the Head, the Heart, and the Gut. These are the three gifts that I believe our Dad has passed on to us, his three sons. It would seem that although each one of us received all three of these gifts from our Father, each of the three brothers received one of these three components more than the other two. Let me try to explain.

Let me begin with my older brother. It would appear to me that he received the gift of “The Gut” more than the other two brothers. As I stated earlier our father had a great deal of intestinal problems which eventually led to the removal of his entire large intestines and the unenviable use of a colostomy bag for almost the last thirty years of his life. My older brother seems to have inherited some of the same issues as he struggles with irritable bowel disease on a continuous basis.

It is said that the Gut is that intuitive nature or even the soul of a person. Some even say it is God, where you just know what to do. Unfortunately like most character traits your strong points can also be your weak points. Every time we make a wrong decision we always say I should have gone with my gut. This unfortunately is where I believe it stays and can literally eat away at your guts over time if not careful.

As I compare my father to my older brother I see many similarities in both their journeys through life. At the early age of 17 my Dad left home and joined the Navy. My older brother went to Junior Rangers at 17 for the summer and upon graduating from school left to find himself in Europe. They both returned changed from children to men. Just like my Dad internalized his war experiences and never opened up about things; I believe my older brother was very similar and internalized much during his younger years. Is it a coincidence that they both developed intestinal issues. I call it the gift of the Gut. Although it is probably the greater of the three gifts it can also be the most troublesome.

Then there is my younger brother who I would say received a higher percentage of all the three gifts, but probably received the gift of “The Head” the most predominately. The Head is where you think more logically, perceive and analyze difficult situations, or basically have the ability to decipher and problem solve.

I think of my Dad as a man who was always thinking, a jack of all trades. There wasn’t too much he couldn’t do. He was on the cutting edge of the plastics industry right from the start and was always in demand for his abilities and experience. If you ever saw some of his furniture that he built or his wood carvings you would say he was a master craftsman. I truly believed there was not too much my Dad couldn’t do.

My younger brother was only 14 years old when I left home, so I missed a lot of those years watching him grow to manhood. I know that he had a totally different experience of our father than myself, but that’s alright. He became his own person and developed skills that myself or my older brother probably never could perfect. His abilities in the world of electronics always amaze me. He can grasp all those analytical and abstract issues that I could never do. He definitely received the gift of the Head from our father.

Our Dad began to lose the use of his hands as he got older due to pinched nerves in his neck. After a couple of surgeries Dad was able to use his hands but never regained the dexterity required to continue with his woodcarvings. I definitely see some similarities of this with my younger brother. He, too suffers with issues with his thumb and finds it more and more difficult to do all those intricate details required with his profession. He too has lost some of that dexterity with his hands.

It does seem odd that both my Dad and younger brother should lose some of their ability that allowed them to do all those complex projects. Again is it a coincidence that both of these men should struggle with their ability to accomplish those creative ideas that come from the gift of “the Head”? It would seem the gifts of our father may have a higher price tag then we could ever imagine.

The last gift of our Father is of course “the Heart“. I never asked for it but it seems to be the one of the three gifts that I received the most. The Heart is where you think and act more so from your feelings and emotions than your Head or your Gut.

I’ll be honest as a young boy and teenager I cannot really remember seeing my Father being very emotional. He may have yelled at us boys if we were acting up but I never really saw him get angry, or cry, or show any true feelings. It wasn’t until he retired and began writing down his thoughts in his poetry that his feelings began to emerge. If you were to read his published book of poetry you can see a real wit, but also behind that wit or humour a lot of the true feelings and emotions of the author are revealed.

In many ways without my knowledge I seem to have followed in his path. At first I began writing funny poems and songs, and then songs with deeper meaning, and then to short stories. In all these writings I truly believe I leave a part of me in each paragraph. Sometimes my stories are just for fun; sometimes they are written about someone who has hurt me or loved me; sometimes they are written to show my love or admiration for someone, but whatever they are about ,they are also about me inadvertently.

Of course as I mentioned earlier my Dad had heart issues. High blood pressure, high cholesterol and an erratic heart beat that ultimately led to a pacemaker. Well guess who developed heart issues. That’s right, it was me and I too have high cholesterol that eventually led to a blockage in one of the main arteries of my heart. The similarities between my father’s journey and myself and my brother’s journey are just too overwhelming to ignore. It would seem we all received a gift from our Father that we never really knew existed.

The amazing part of this story is that when I began to write it I was just thinking about how our physical conditions were so parallel to our father’s. It wasn’t until I was started writing that I realized I was not alone in my thinking. It seems there have been many studies done where science is now saying that we have three brains, The Head, The Heart, And The Guts. Each of these three brains have different ways of processing.

Is it a coincidence that each brother received one of the same medical ailments as their father? Are we connected more than we can ever imagine? To me the answers to those questions are pretty obvious.

Like it or not we have each been given a very unique gift from our Father.