Tag Archives: Fathers

Mad Men

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Cast as one of my favorite fictional men: Sam Heughan. Source: Twitter.com

Cast as one of my favorite fictional men, Jamie Fraser in Outlander: Actor Sam Heughan. Source: Twitter.com

Men are awesome.

I mean that in the most literal sense. They invoke awe and feelings of fear and wonder to name a few. They can be formidable, dreadful or extremely good.  But what is it I love about them the most? Maybe their consistency?  Their forgiveness? Their cool under pressure demeanour? Maybe I am just describing my perfect version of a man. Perhaps what I love about them is that they are just so different from women. Thank God!

I love that men can be so direct, so simple. No games. Of course, this is not always the case. There are many exceptions. But let it stand that the men I love don’t play games or have an agenda. There are only a few things they really need in their lives. Give them basic things like food, love, laughs and good beer and they just keep coming back for more!

So today, I want to celebrate the best parts of men. Especially since Mo-vember is lurking around the corner (dreading it). One big positive moment before I want to look away from all their hairy faces for a whole month.

Here are some of my fav bits about men… online bits that is. 😉

The epic Man Cold video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbmbMSrsZVQ

46 reasons why Men are Amazing: http://suzie81.wordpress.com/2013/07/30/46-reasons-why-men-are-amazing/

One of the most endearing traits of men: http://davidkanigan.com/2013/10/16/yep-about-right-4/

Because they make amazing fathers: http://thebhj.com/

Blogs that can help ease my headache… teaching you how to rock your manliness.

I particularly love the dress and grooming section of this blog: http://www.artofmanliness.com/category/dress-grooming/

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Brave. The resolution.

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In my Father's eyes...

In my Father’s eyes…

So where did we leave off? Oh right, I was pacing the room, making myself nauseous and about to meet my father for the first time in my life. What a moment! SO stressful that I will likely never forget that feeling.

There was another feeling I felt later that day that was equally as acute. An aching feeling of sadness as we drove away from my father, leaving him behind again in return to our children and our busy lives. This is it. The intensity. The power. The FEELING. This is what life is about. Yet, so often we shy away from moments like this that will reward us with a feeling so powerful that we cannot help but know we are alive!

SO how was our 7-hour day together? Indescribable. I can tell you that we embraced upon meeting. I can tell you that we talked for hours over coffee while I showed him pictures of me growing up and he showed me pictures of my entire paternal ancestral line going 4 generations back. I can tell you we drove to one of his favorite places to take nature photographs and then did a spontaneous photo shoot with me as the subject. I can tell you that there were so many moments when we just held hands or gazed at each other. I can tell you that I literally felt through his entire being the love he had for my mother.

But none of that will be enough to convey the moments so powerful, like little earthquakes shifting in my consciousness. Moments in which I heard that I was loved, wanted, longed for. Little fissures in my beliefs, followed by new connections that were stronger, less imagined and forged with love. I could never have imagined it better.

I am so excited about this new connection and all its’ potential. I feel the power of it like a surge of energy that can ignite every action in my days whether routine or adventurous. This has been a journey a long time in the making. Perhaps that time was necessary, bringing us to the right moment. I have named this the year to face my fears and this was fear #1. Now that I have conquered the biggest… I can line them all up and knock the rest out of the park. Bring it. I am ready.

Brave. A personal journey years in the making.

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As I write this, I am looking out a patio door onto the Granby river in a little town called Grand Forks in the Boundary Country region of B.C. The sun is shining brilliantly after a rainfall and I can hear a myriad of unfamiliar bird calls. I am so excited to be here. “Am I on vacation?” you may ask. Nope… not quite. I am on a mission. A mission to face a fear that is so deeply ingrained in my body that it is as familiar to me as the feeling of my own heart beating in my chest.

I am here to meet my real father. Yes, for the first time. Yes, I am 35 years old. Yes, it is about time.

I will not reflect on how it came to be that I do not know my real father at this stage of my life here on my blog as this would expose the personal lives of others. How we got here is not really so important as what we do now, this instant.

I will, however, reflect on what kind of hurdle this has been for me. I have struggled with feeling ‘abandoned’, ‘unwanted’ and ‘never good enough’ for as long as I can remember. It did not matter whether these feelings were in my present state of mind. They were intrinsic, ever-present obstacles that I would dance around daily or appease by acting out for attention. They were subtle…but even the smallest mosquito can cause quite a ruckus when it is trapped in the room with you.

There are some amazing substitutes for fathers and mine were my grandfather and then later on, my step-father. Love was given, tears were wiped. I was not left wanting for a male presence as I grew up. But there it still was, buzzing in the back of my mind despite my protests of “Why should I want to know my real father? What do I need him for? What will it change?”.

My sister, truly the boldest of we two, made the big leap of contacting our father first.  She was hunting down some family history. I thank my lucky stars above that I had done some recent personal ‘work’ by way of starting my own business, as this placed my mind in exactly the right state to hear her tell me “He is really lovely and he REALLY wants to talk to you!”.

I also need to thank Mark Zuckerberg for the gift of Facebook at this point because it is SO much easier to type a quick message than it is to dial a number. So I wrote a quick note to my father…asking for patience. It was in me to call, I just needed a few more days.

And then I found it! The spark, the inertia, the drive to not only call but really have a wonderful conversation. To hear his voice, finally solid after being such a mystery. To hear his tellings of our family history, the artistic talent, the fact that he himself never knew his own father. But most of all, to hear that when I was 5 months old, he tried to see me but came up against resistance in the form of family meaning well.

That conversation started the pull that I felt toward him. I needed  to meet him and I would feel even more incomplete and frustrated every day that passed without it happening. He sent me a photo that he had taken of himself and my mother before their marriage. Gazing at these two faces together was jarring. There was love there. This existed. I am stronger because of this.

So when I looked at my calendar for the next few months, I was so dismayed. This was important dammit! I will make it a priority! And so here we are…I am so nervous that I feel sick. What will he think of me? What will we talk about? The only thing that calms me is pacing across the tiny motel room and gazing at the engorged river. Just breathe. Just breathe…This is where you are meant to be right now. This is my mantra. On this day of faith. In search of love.

To be continued…