Originally Posted by gemlady
Maybe there should be a tissue advisory for this thread?
You're not just kidding, Jan!
My Dad was born three days after the Titanic sank. His parents were both English, and I'm not sure when they came to Canada, but Dad and his next brother were both born here, before the family returned to England just before WWI, on the last passenger crossing of the Atlantic, to stay with his mother's family for the duration. His father was an army man, about whom I know very little because Dad was never close to him, didn't talk much about him and never with any affection. As far as I know, he never saw battle, and they returned to Canada in 1919, by then with another son. Their sister was born in Canada. All four of them are gone now.
Dad made his living in various aspects of sales, meeting my Mum in the workplace. They "courted" for many years because it was the depression and they couldn't afford to get married. They'd have made fifty years, but for that. Latterly, he managed several branches of a major but now-defunct supermarket chain. That fit well with him, given his love of food and people.
I was about 7 when my parents reversed roles -- uncommon in the 1950s -- and Mum took an office job, while Dad stayed home. He was the cook in the family, though Mum could certainly hold her own, and it's definitely from him that I inherited my kitchen joy.
I was Daddy's Little Girl, no doubt about it. He sang that song to me enough. I still have the single
of it that he gave me as a birthday card one year. He sang to me lots, and I marvel that I actually learned the tunes, because later on it became quite clear that though he loved music, he really couldn't carry a tune in a basket!
We did lots of things together, but nothing that I enjoyed more than going for walks with him. We had our routes, but we also "explored". We travelled the city on streetcars and buses, we walked the length of the shopping district at Christmas time, looking at all the decorations. He read to me when I was little and he taught me to play Cribbage, something that we enjoyed together even in his declining years.
He died in October 2005 at the age of 93. There were many things about his life that were not easy, but it was a good life. I miss you, Daddy.