Father’s Day

By Walter Kish

Father’s Day this year was quieter than most of the ones I’ve experienced in my tenure as the pater noster of my little family.  When my three kids were younger and living with us, it became tradition on this day to be served breakfast in bed.  My wife would whip up some fancy omelettes, champagne and orange juice mimosas would provide a festive accompaniment, and the kids would pile onto our large queen sized bed, where presents would be opened and I would bask in the warm glow of fatherhood appreciated. 

My kids are adults now and making their own way in this constantly changing world of ours, so this past Father’s Day, only one of them was there to mark the occasion when I awoke.  Nonetheless, as I sat in bed sipping on my mimosa, I was particularly gratified with the thought that all of them have turned out to be such wonderful adult human beings.  Although as a parent, I can claim some credit for that. I am also wise enough to know that each human being is the master of his or her own destiny and ultimately responsible for his or her own success.  I have seen the offspring of otherwise ideal parents turn out to be incorrigible delinquents as well as the scions of totally dysfunctional and inept parents become upstanding and successful adults.  As parents, we can only strive to provide the optimal environment within which our children are given the best possible opportunity to develop and flourish to whatever their potential may be. Most important and crucial to this process however, is to provide the right role model by which they can follow as a pattern to create their own life-coping strategies.

Looking back at my own experience growing up, I am grateful to my own parents, now deceased, for providing me with such an example.  This is not to say that they were perfect.  They were the end products of their own imperfect upbringing within an essentially feudal, patriarchal and largely illiterate rural society, riddled with biases and childrearing practices that are no longer condoned.  They did not have the benefit of Dr. Spock or Dr. Phil, disposable diapers, parent support systems, educational toys, organized sports or cultural enrichment programs.  My childhood upbringing was by no means easy; nonetheless on all the important things, I think they got it right.

My own father came to parenting rather late in life, as he was already in his forties when his first child came along.  Not knowing anything better, his initial approach was traditionally old-school Ukrainian, based on a heavy dose of discipline, corporal punishment and the clichй belief that children should be quiet and do as they were told.  Yet over time, being an innately intelligent person, I think he realized the inefficacy of this approach and though he never abandoned it, it became less of a factor in our relationship. I can’t say that we were close, but particularly after his death, I increasingly came to appreciate how much of a role model he had been in my own life and in how I came to understand and deal with the outside world. 

He had been blessed with good intelligence but had never had the opportunity to gain a decent education.  Nonetheless, he read voraciously and took an active interest in what was happening in the world.  I still remember accompanying him at a very early age on his weekly forays to the newspaper store where he would buy three or four different Ukrainian papers, as well as the local English ones.  He would take great delight in dissecting current events and teaching me of the follies that dominated local, national and international affairs. 

Although he belonged to the local UNF branch, he never bought into the sectarian Melnykivtsi – Banderivtsi conflicts that so dominated the Ukrainian community at the time.  I think he was at heart a socialist, having seen and lived through the economic and political turmoil and hardships of early twentieth century Eastern Europe.  By the same token, he saw through the hypocrisy of Communism and considered it just another form of fascism.  He pooh-poohed much of the self-righteous political activities of the local Ukrainian activists, yet he was a strong supporter of the necessity of maintaining a strong Ukrainian identity and cultural traditions.

Many in the community considered him somewhat of an enigma.  For instance, he played a leading role in helping build the local Ukrainian church, yet everyone knew that he was somewhat of an agnostic and did not hold a very high opinion of organized religion, the clergy and their accompanying bureaucracies in general. 

His approach to life was based on some basic fundamental principles – the value of hard work, the importance of learning and education, the necessity to think for oneself and not just accept things at face value, and above all, not being content to accept the status quo.  Throughout his life he demonstrated the courage to take risks and push the boundaries of his envelope.  He left home at eighteen and immigrated to Canada with pennies in his pocket.  He endured the Great Depression and when World War II came along, he joined the Canadian army and fought in all the major campaigns in Europe.  After the War, having settled down and worked in the mines of northern Quebec, he decided to change his life completely once again.  He sold everything, bought a farm on the Niagara Peninsula and started over again from scratch. 

Although I did not appreciate it for most of my life, it is clear that many of my values and character traits are clearly derived from the role model that my father played in my life.  I have inherited much of his dogged individuality, his intellectual curiosity and skepticism, his adventurous risk-taking spirit and his disdain for the status quo.  Though he may have been far from the “Father Knows Best” model, in his own way, he imparted to me as his son what was most essential in succeeding in this life. It is a legacy for which I am immensely grateful.