Thanks again for the memories, dad

Opinion Jun 19, 2017 by Karen Scian Waterloo Chronicle

This was my first fatherless Father’s Day. It was a strange feeling after decades of cheesy gifts, family dinners and long-distance phone calls.

And it was a marvellous opportunity to reflect on my relationship with the strong-willed, determined and stubborn man I called “dad.”

I was raised to stand tall, be strong, and fight hard for what is right. He showed me that being different was better than being average. That adversity was there for a reason. Thanks, Dad.

I was taught to hold myself and others to high standards. That it was imperative to have an opinion. And to not back down, when the battle got tough. Do your research.

Know your facts.

Don’t be intimidated by others who think they are more entitled to their perspective, because of their age, gender or position. Especially their gender. Thanks, dad.

I was taught that despite the pain, making mistakes was part of life.

Even the huge ones.

But you better learn from them, because making that same mistake twice wasn’t going to be tolerated. Thanks, Dad.

I learned that waking up early is better than sleeping in. That free breakfast buffets in hotels are meant to be conquered.

That anything can be fixed with a little ingenuity. That rules are guidelines. That plaids and prints do indeed mix. Thanks, dad.

I learned that a good relationship requires respect and humour, something my parents had in spades. And some fireworks, to keep things interesting.

My dad was a bit of a Casanova, as a young man, leaving a series of broken hearts in his wake.

I was listening when he told me that he married my mom because she was the smartest, sharpest and most complex woman he had ever met. Thanks, dad.

I was taught the Canadian flag was the grand prize in the lottery of life. My sister and I were shown the world, then told to get our rears in gear and go conquer it. Thanks, dad.

I was taught that we are tiny little players in a big world.

I recall sitting on the front step, bemoaning another rained-out softball game, watching a storm roll in across the endless prairie skies.

“Don’t complain about the rain, kiddo. The farmers need it.” Thanks, dad.

Being a dad is about more than biology. It’s a relationship.

Perhaps your dad is your grandpa, your mom, an uncle, or an impactful family friend. Whoever dad is to you, please do me a favour — gather up those precious memories and keep them safe.

•••

Karen Scian is the co-founder of  the Talent Business Solutions, an educator and a recovering city councillor. She is also chair of the Waterloo Public Library Board. You can email her at beinscian@gmail.com or follow her on Twitter @karenscian.

Thanks again for the memories, dad

Opinion Jun 19, 2017 by Karen Scian Waterloo Chronicle

This was my first fatherless Father’s Day. It was a strange feeling after decades of cheesy gifts, family dinners and long-distance phone calls.

And it was a marvellous opportunity to reflect on my relationship with the strong-willed, determined and stubborn man I called “dad.”

I was raised to stand tall, be strong, and fight hard for what is right. He showed me that being different was better than being average. That adversity was there for a reason. Thanks, Dad.

I was taught to hold myself and others to high standards. That it was imperative to have an opinion. And to not back down, when the battle got tough. Do your research.

Know your facts.

Don’t be intimidated by others who think they are more entitled to their perspective, because of their age, gender or position. Especially their gender. Thanks, dad.

I was taught that despite the pain, making mistakes was part of life.

Even the huge ones.

But you better learn from them, because making that same mistake twice wasn’t going to be tolerated. Thanks, Dad.

I learned that waking up early is better than sleeping in. That free breakfast buffets in hotels are meant to be conquered.

That anything can be fixed with a little ingenuity. That rules are guidelines. That plaids and prints do indeed mix. Thanks, dad.

I learned that a good relationship requires respect and humour, something my parents had in spades. And some fireworks, to keep things interesting.

My dad was a bit of a Casanova, as a young man, leaving a series of broken hearts in his wake.

I was listening when he told me that he married my mom because she was the smartest, sharpest and most complex woman he had ever met. Thanks, dad.

I was taught the Canadian flag was the grand prize in the lottery of life. My sister and I were shown the world, then told to get our rears in gear and go conquer it. Thanks, dad.

I was taught that we are tiny little players in a big world.

I recall sitting on the front step, bemoaning another rained-out softball game, watching a storm roll in across the endless prairie skies.

“Don’t complain about the rain, kiddo. The farmers need it.” Thanks, dad.

Being a dad is about more than biology. It’s a relationship.

Perhaps your dad is your grandpa, your mom, an uncle, or an impactful family friend. Whoever dad is to you, please do me a favour — gather up those precious memories and keep them safe.

•••

Karen Scian is the co-founder of  the Talent Business Solutions, an educator and a recovering city councillor. She is also chair of the Waterloo Public Library Board. You can email her at beinscian@gmail.com or follow her on Twitter @karenscian.

Thanks again for the memories, dad

Opinion Jun 19, 2017 by Karen Scian Waterloo Chronicle

This was my first fatherless Father’s Day. It was a strange feeling after decades of cheesy gifts, family dinners and long-distance phone calls.

And it was a marvellous opportunity to reflect on my relationship with the strong-willed, determined and stubborn man I called “dad.”

I was raised to stand tall, be strong, and fight hard for what is right. He showed me that being different was better than being average. That adversity was there for a reason. Thanks, Dad.

I was taught to hold myself and others to high standards. That it was imperative to have an opinion. And to not back down, when the battle got tough. Do your research.

Know your facts.

Don’t be intimidated by others who think they are more entitled to their perspective, because of their age, gender or position. Especially their gender. Thanks, dad.

I was taught that despite the pain, making mistakes was part of life.

Even the huge ones.

But you better learn from them, because making that same mistake twice wasn’t going to be tolerated. Thanks, Dad.

I learned that waking up early is better than sleeping in. That free breakfast buffets in hotels are meant to be conquered.

That anything can be fixed with a little ingenuity. That rules are guidelines. That plaids and prints do indeed mix. Thanks, dad.

I learned that a good relationship requires respect and humour, something my parents had in spades. And some fireworks, to keep things interesting.

My dad was a bit of a Casanova, as a young man, leaving a series of broken hearts in his wake.

I was listening when he told me that he married my mom because she was the smartest, sharpest and most complex woman he had ever met. Thanks, dad.

I was taught the Canadian flag was the grand prize in the lottery of life. My sister and I were shown the world, then told to get our rears in gear and go conquer it. Thanks, dad.

I was taught that we are tiny little players in a big world.

I recall sitting on the front step, bemoaning another rained-out softball game, watching a storm roll in across the endless prairie skies.

“Don’t complain about the rain, kiddo. The farmers need it.” Thanks, dad.

Being a dad is about more than biology. It’s a relationship.

Perhaps your dad is your grandpa, your mom, an uncle, or an impactful family friend. Whoever dad is to you, please do me a favour — gather up those precious memories and keep them safe.

•••

Karen Scian is the co-founder of  the Talent Business Solutions, an educator and a recovering city councillor. She is also chair of the Waterloo Public Library Board. You can email her at beinscian@gmail.com or follow her on Twitter @karenscian.