But as they all left the shop, Walter stayed behind. He worked to make it right. Late into the evening and sometimes even on weekends, Walter often worked alone. He was driven by pride and an integrity that helped him endure those quiet nights when no one stayed to help him. He figured he was getting paid to do a job, not just to put in time.
It wasn't that he really enjoyed his job. Some coworkers insulted his intelligence, and his bosses regularly abused his diligence. But my dad, Walter, taught me early in life that even if your joy and your income don't come from the same place, you don't give up on either.
Much of what I've learned about a work ethic and a sense of responsibility, I learned from my dad. On hard days or lonely times, I often think of his persistence and insistence on excellence.
I remember hearing him getting ready for work, having breakfast, making lunch, and starting the car for the long drive to work. All well before 6 in the morning. Maybe that's part of the reason I don't find it strange to start my day well before six as well.
I still remember watching in awe as my dad fixed things. Carpentry projects, fixing cars, electronics projects, or even mowing lawns - everything had to be done right and well. Even his hobbies of gardening, soccer, photography and music got good time and benefited others. From an early age, while I often despaired of ever being as talented, I aspired to be as useful to the world around me.
My dad didn't talk lots. He preferred listening to talking. But when he spoke, his conclusions were clear and his words direct. He was not one to withhold deserved praise, but never one for undeserved flattery. You always knew where you stood with my dad. Maybe that's what formed my preference for straight talkers. No butt-kissing. No needless running off at the mouth. "Be willing to say what you mean and mean what you say."
My dad was physical in his discipline and his affection for his kids. Not reticent to spank, but also not hesitant to hug. Both were expressions of love that conveyed his desire for us to live long and well.
Maybe that's why I wasn't shy about spanking our kids. I didn't experience spanking as abuse or hugs as perversion. While I've become increasingly aware that many kids suffer unspeakable abuse, I know the value of both physical discipline and affection. But times have changed, and now courts waste our tax dollars debating decriminalizing drugs and criminalizing spanking.
Maybe if they had a dad like my dad, things would be different. It's not that my dad was perfect. But even at that, he taught me that a good dad doesn't have to be a perfect dad.
Sometimes I wonder if I'd be doing what I'm doing now had my dad been a drunk or junkie, a brawling thug or lazy lout. It's hard to live what you've never experienced, and tough to imagine what you've never seen.
That's part of the problem in my neighbourhood. Young men grow up never seeing or knowing a guy who takes fatherhood seriously. Grown men confuse the ability to be a walking, talking sperm dispensary with actually being a good father.
Some kids never knew their parents. Some kids don't have much to be thankful for in their parents. Some kids lose their parents before they ever get to say thanks.
But there are signs of hope. Last week, I was invited to a barbeque with a group of guys calling themselves "Better Fathers." It's a support group for guys who want to be better dads. They meet in the basement of a church in the neighbourhood and discuss their failures and fears, their hopes and dreams. It's a great group.
I don't get to see my dad often anymore. I live about 1,484 miles away. But for one week, both my folks are in town. They'll be in church today. They've already checked out some of the houses and apartment blocks we're renovating. My dad was impressed - and that felt nice. They'll come with me to a few meetings and meet some of my friends in the neighbourhood.
Happy Father's Day, dad. One week late, 51 weeks early, or any day of the year. I'm proud that you're my dad and grateful for every moment we share.
Rev. Harry Lehotsky
514 Maryland Street
Winnipeg, Mb R3G 1M5
(204) 775-4929
[email protected]