Now, I know that most boys are suppose to look up to their Fathers. Not every boy, however, considers his Father his hero.
Our family history is fairly well documented. A trend that started before I was born, and hopefully will continue long after I shuffle off this mortal coil. I've heard stories, and seen pictures.
Dad keeps an enormous archive of photos which documents near bout every event, big and small, in my existence on this planet. Indeed, there are a large number of years where I do not appear in any of those photographs. A plight I put on myself by abandoning this side of the family for a good chunk of time. Truth be known, I often look at these photos and imagine myself in them. One of my biggest regrets is not having been there for Family events throughout.
The days that Dad should have been enjoying his youth to it's fullest, he was supporting his little brother and sister, working at a bank, and working hard in school. The latter eventually awarding him a Ph.D. from Oxford University. Suffice it that I will not get into the reason he ended up parenting his siblings. But he did, and did it well and still managed to come out with a bright future. A true mark of hard work. A true mans work.
He has saved me on numerous occasions. Situations that I got myself into, and he managed to get me out of. He put up with years of abuse about smoking in the car. And years of abuse from an ungrateful son (Me). And oh, if I could take that back.
As I look back, one of the hardest things I've come to learn is that I don't remember why my Father and I didn't speak. Or, more correctly, why I didn't speak to him. Not on birthdays, or holidays. I just refused. I was not always the most honest with my parents, being ashamed of what I was doing. Thinking perhaps that it, in some way, didn't add up to some expectations. Pity that, as I know now the only expectations where that I was successful, educated, and happy.
I do know that at some point I grew to resent him for leaving, the same as I resented my step-father for taking his place. Both points being aimless and dumb. I had two men who loved me, were willing to guide and help me and ultimately just wanted the best. Without my step-Dad I wouldn't have learned to ride a bike. One of the greatest gifts I ever received on Christmas, a black and silver Huffy BMX. In fact, I tore open the wrapping on that box in a house right around the corner from the one I presently sit in. A house I pass by frequently. One that, unlike our lives, has not changed much in 20 years. The deck and built-in BBQ in the backyard, one that my Step-Father built is still there. Without my Step-Dad, I would not have learned to fish. A sport which I know find therapeutic and relaxing. And still, instead of thanking him for those things, (Tony, Thank you) I learned resent. A started to look with an angry eye at the man that played Snakes and Ladders with me for hours the first time we met. A game in which I cheated by going up both the Snakes and Ladders in a blatant disregard for the rules.
I digress...
Even with my Father 'gone', he was always there. Never missed the chance to drive from Hamilton or Toronto to Burlington to pick us up for weekend visits, and certainly never missed the chance to allow us to drink Chocolate Milk whenever we wanted. He sat with us while we created scrap books. Hell, the man pricked his own finger with a pin so I could view his blood under a microscope. We repaid him for those visits by sitting at the front window of that little grey house on Appleby Line and cried while watching him pull out of the driveway. Perhaps it was the fear that we may not see the man again, or a way of acknowledging we were now back in reality.
Years ago, he took us to the theatre to see 'Demolition Man' and we loved every minute of it. He also took us to see Jurassic Park, after first viewing it to ensure it wasn't scary. Most important of the film-watching experiences was 'Apollo 13' A film which I consider in my top 3 favorites, and certainly one the sparked my admiration of the space program and all things NASA. Going to Florida not long after that, he surprised us with a trip to the Kennedy Space Center thinking I would enjoy it after asking 'so many questions about space' after seeing the film. One of my favorite photos of all time is my brother and I sitting on the leg of the mock-up Lunar Lander. I first saw Close Encounters of the Third Kind and the Godfather with him, both films lead to my undying love of film. Certainly part of the reason I want to make films.
I disappointed him, I'm sure, with my outlook on school. Perhaps because I knew I was smart, and could coast through. Not the case. It's a shame, really, that I never sought out enriched classes, or more of a challenge. I was happier to squeak by and keep my focus on writing and movies. But, I can say he is content know with my return to higher education. So am I. I am too smart to not go back to school, and go as far as I can with it. Way to smart. Something else I got from Dad.
Coming back from Germany, My Dad and Step-Mom picked me up at the airport. It was in the midst of the non-talking years, but there they were. The truth is, I wouldn't have wanted anybody else to come and get me. And I have since treasured the moment of sitting on the front porch in their then-Mississauga home telling them about my journey.
I owe my lovely eyes, one of the only features about myself I like, to my Dad. As well as my noise, dark features... a lot, really. I am, as my Nanny has told me, my Father's son. I guess this stretches from looks to demeanor.
Deep down, especially now, I know she is right. I will make him proud, along with the whole family. I will make lots of people proud. I am that good at a some things, as arrogant as that may sound. When I have children of my own, I will damn sure pattern my fathering on exactly what my Dad did. Love his kids to bits, always be there for them, make sure they live good, moral and most importantly happy lives. Never missing a Christmas or birthday. Smiling when I see them unwrap the latest video-game craze (As long as I get a turn). Riding Space Mountain with them the first time. I am excited to be that Father. The same Father my dad was. Though I will never pretend that I lived through as many hardships as he did.
I am proud to be a Morrison. I'm proud to be the son of the best man that ever carried that name. I will be goddamned if I don't do my all to honor all the things that my Father taught me, if I don't do my best to repay all the love and rescues.
I am, without a doubt, my Fathers son. And I like that. The man is my hero.
x's and o's
-Remy-
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