The last Lecture continued.....

4. What were the dreams my parents had and how did they fulfill them?

5. Who are mentors I can turn to? What lessons have they taught me?


I am sure my parents had similar dreams that all parents do: to have a better life than their parents and for me to have a better life than they did.

My dad does not come from a great family...this is not new or private news; but out of respect for him; I will spare my readers the details. As a child, he wanted to be a doctor. He had told me this before, but I was quite shocked when his sister mentioned this me, almost 25 years later in casual conversation. This was obviously quite imprtant to him at one point in his life; especially if his sister who is six years younger than him, remembered this detail, without being questionned about it.

He also loved animals as a small child, and still does. He grew up in Kitchener, a major urban centre in Southern Ontario. However, at the end of the road he grew up on, there was (and still is) a large conservation area whre he and his best friend Paul (who is my Godfather) spent many hours playing and exploring. He collected wounded creatures, includng rats, squirrels and turtles and kept them in cages in the garage...that is, until one day when a feamle rat came walking across the front porch with her eight babies in tow. My grandmother apparently screamed for a good 45minutes before my grandfather told my dad his animals would have to go.

As my dad and Uncle Paul got older they would play hookey from school and go fishing and hunting for birds. My Dad played in a band thoughout most of his teenage years; and likely dreamt of being a musician and songwriter. I don't think "making it big" was the number one dream; but being able to make a living out of writing songs, and playing music would have been one of his dreams. For a while, he even managed ot live out this dream; unfortunately, the life of a musician is not one that is also condusive to being a husband and father. Sometimes, even childhood dreams need to be sacrificed, for the practicality of adulthood.

As for my mother, she wanted to be a nurse. She said she used to dream out the white uniform and hat (man, would she be disappointed now!). When it came time for college, my granfather refused to pay for it; stating he was not going to pay all that money for her to be a nurse for a year, get married then never work again (I guess this was a major problem in the 70's-women not wanting to work or be independent in any way). He told her to pick soemthing else; something more practical. (I guess nursing was too "artsy" for him...) so she chose hairdressing. I remember looking at her very puzzled when she told me this story years ago, thinking of how non-sensical it was. She simply sighed, and said, "you just didn't argue with my Dad...you wouldn't win." So she became a hairdressor. And hated it.

She also loved her grandparents farm as a kid; which is so weird for me to think of. My mother's home is so clean, that you never see dust floating in the sun; and never a thing out of place. So for her as a child, to like being on the farm with the pigs and chickens and cows is more than a little mind boggling. I think she preferred the peace and solidarity more than anything else. Her father, was a war veteran from WWII, who lost his leg riding a motorcycle over a landmine in battle. He NEVER talked about the war in front of me or my cousins, and only very sporadically in front of his children. The PTSD he must have experienced (but of course, did not get treatment for) must have been incredibly painful for both him and his family.

I think moving to Collingwood from Kitchener was also an opportunity for them to fulfill a lot of childhood dreams for them. This was chance at so many things. One, to prove that they didn't need anyone but each other, two they could live near the water and hunt and fish and boat and three, raise their child in a small town. Funny how all parents think this will protect their kids from the dangers such as grugs, gangs and violence.


I have to admit, I have a problem with mentors. Either their acomplishments are so vast that I could never live up to what they have done, or they inveitably let us down in some way, simply because they are human and make mistakes. I have a lot of respect for anyone who chooses to stand up for what they think is right, even if they are wrong. I have a ton of respect for people who are completely honest about their own faults and embrace them. I have a ton of respect for anyone who embraces their faith. I respect anyone who chooses to live a simpler life, and is respectful about the resources they utilize. I respect anyone who chooses to expand their own horizons and go against the grain. I respect the underdog. And I really respect anyone who gives the underdog a chance to prove their value. We all have value; no human life is worth more than another. When you strip away money, status, education and skin colour, we are no different. I beleive it is important to remember this, every single day of our lives.