THIS IS TO HONOR ALL FATHERS
Kavita Chhibber - October 21, 2005
Especially mine.
I see a lot of posts by mothers, on motherhood, and about their own mothers but I’m yet to see one honoring fathers. I have been fortunate enough to have a truly remarkable one so this is dedicated to him and many other special dads I see around me in different age groups.
My father was a child of partition, and the fifth of six brothers. I would always hear my grandmother say he was different from her other sons.
As a child he would do things like burying books in the soil in the hope that more would grow so they could be distributed to the poor. After all, plants grow when the seed is planted didn’t they?
He was not even in double digits age wise when he lost the love of his life, his own father, a physician to brain hemorrhage. For my grandmother it was a double tragedy as six months ago she had lost her only daughter the youngest child to typhoid. Till the day she died at 104, she would take out a picture of her then beautiful nine year old daughter, from her famous steel suitcase, and tell us she was the prettiest, the smartest the most wonderful girl in the world.
She went into deep depression a young widow in her mid thirties with six sons to raise.. My father was not told the reason why she was so sad, or why his father who was taken out covered in a shroud never returned.
A few days later he followed another group of people carrying a dead body for a funeral, saw the body being burnt, and came back in a state of deep shock repeating “I know my father will not come back.” In the recesses of his young brain something had registered in a sub conscious way that told him the truth no one had dared to spell out. He was deathly ill and in shock-that in turn jolted my grand mother back to reality. To this day because of her, my father has a tremendous respect for women, because growing up she was the role model he looked up to finding in her inner strengths and an intuitive intellect that he imbibed in his own personality in great measure.
My grand mother had left her village of Kharian near Lahore after being warned at a wedding not to go back as the riots had started, wearing just the jewellery she had on her person. “We were part of a caravan of buses and I saw dead bodies scattered all around on each side of the road from Lahore to Amritsar and vice versa. The looting and killing was conducted by both sides who found any one vulnerable," said my dad whose eyes his mother kept shielding because he was so young. A Muslim man they called uncle sold their lands and managed to send the money for my grand mother several months later.
Money however remained tight and often the boys survived on a large pot of barley soup day after day. Each one of them tried to find a job as soon as they grew up to take the burden off their mother. My father a brilliant academician and sportsman, wanted to become a physician like his father, but money being a scarce commodity chose the next prestigious profession-the army, where his education and everything else was paid for. He has been a brilliant soldier but what made him outstanding was not just the fact that he was so well versed in military strategy, but that his soldiers, thousands of them were willing to lay down their lives for him before their country. It was very evident in the 1971 war, according to mom. One of his aides told me later that dad was in a bunker sitting in a corner taking off his shoes. Two of his aides were in the bunker with him when a shell fell. Though the entire bunker came down killing one of the soldiers instantly and grievously wounding the other, the corner where dad sat remained miraculously intact. The wounded soldier refused to be taken out until he saw with his own eyes, that his “sahib” was okay. I have seen the love he evoked amongst his men even as a young child during festivals or gatherings. Mom still laughs when she recalls how she once went to visit dad in Kashmir and on the bath water turning a little cold, one of the soldiers told my mom-you take a bath with that memsahib, I will get piping hot water for sahib. There was one soldier who was so possessive about my father that he would compete with mom –if she wanted to go shopping with the dad the guy had to come along: once mom emptied one of dad’s cabinets because it had old disposable stuff to put her clothes there, only to discover the clothes gone, dad’s worthless junk back in and a reprimand from the same guy, not to touch his sahib’s things! She took it all in her stride with good humor.
My earliest memories of the tough looking army man with the penetrating eyes are not of a soldier who stayed away for long stretches and yet managed to have one of the best marriages I have seen, but of a father who would lie in bed in the out open spaces in India where most people slept in the summer and my sister and I cuddled in each arm being regaled by stories of magicians and djinns as we listened wide eyed. What we didn’t know was that all those stories were concocted on the spot. How good a story teller he was is evident by the fact that I believe in the magic of words to this day. He is an awesome Urdu poet as well.
I also remember him spoiling us totally every time he came home from yet another one of his soldierly stints, laden with imported dolls, and a lot of reading material that probably cost him half his salary. To this day he and I share a common obsession for books and become like kids in a candy store ordering them by the dozens(the internet has been very detrimental for our finances). My mom complains that she is the one who ends up reading most of them-“ so we can get some of our money’s worth!) while dad is on to the next interesting looking book to buy!
I have seen the love and kindness with which he treats my mother. To this day I have never seen my parents raise their voice or speak disrespectfully to each other. I remember mom telling me how one day dad came home and she said “I am so tired today’. She had 16 servants working for her at that time. Any other man would have said- “you have 16 people working for you, even 2 maids for both the kids what are you complaining about?” Instead my father said, “to coordinate the schedules and assignments for 16 people can be exhausting business. Why don’t you go rest and I will have someone make a nice hot cup of tea for you.”
Through my growing years he was away most of the time, but each time he was in town, I was always struck by his remarkable intellect, his generosity, not just monetarily but of the heart and the quality time he spent with us. Mom was always happy go lucky and still is, but dad is the one who gets up at night to put the blankets on us, paces the floor if any one of us is sick. I recall being very ill for a couple of months when I was about six. I have no memories of my mom, but I distinctly remember my dad taking 2 months off from work and spending every day entertaining me, and nursing me back to health.
Two of the most poignant moments that happened and have left an indelible mark, were when seated in a train traveling by myself in a section reserved for military personnel and their families, I heard two officers talking in glowing terms about how my dad was their hero and their role model. They had no idea who I was, but I couldn’t have felt prouder or more honored to be the daughter of a man who evoked such love amongst others. To this day I have never heard anyone talk ill of dad. I have often seen people scrambling to do things for him. In fact each time I go to India there is a battalion of army soldiers, officers there to receive me even though my father retired a few years ago. These are men who worked under him and love him to this day, and I become everyone’s daughter, and sister the way they welcome me.
The second poignant moment happened when my old grand mother who was living in luxury at the home of her youngest son, who was then Governor of a state in India, suddenly had a premonition that she was going to die in a few months. She insisted that she wanted to spend the last six months of her life with my father who was retired by then and didn’t have the facilities to pamper my grand mother as my uncle did..or so I thought.
My grandmother had said to me a couple of years earlier for the umpteenth time.. “your father has more grace, and integrity and goodness than any one I know. None of my other sons can match that. My five uncles have been amazing men and I come from a very close knit family both from my mom and my dad’s side, but I lapped it up smugly of course since it was MY dad she was raving about! She added, “Whenever I die I want to die in his house..she passed away six months after she moved to his place, sharing some rich and intimate moments with him-even cute things like telling her highly decorated military general son, how to tell a good eggplant from a bad one!
All that is good and generous in me, all that is considered bright and gifted in me, I have inherited in great measure from my dad. the flaws are my own. My father can still walk into a room and there is an awed silence by just the kind of quiet charisma he exudes. He can mesmerize you with his beautiful deep voice and his hazel eyes, the depth of his knowledge on any subject you choose to speak on, his terrific sense of humor, and understanding of human nature, but what makes him truly a one of a kind man is his unlimited capacity to give and forgive..
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Posted by Kavita Chhibber at October 21, 2005 04:26 AM
Comments
Every story doesnt have to have a moral. Just take time out to appreciate your own father!:)
ok
Greetings, Kavita from Canada
I was abandoned by my father as an infant. Just another sad story, among hundreds of thousands, no indeed, millions of children around the globe.
I am so pleased to see you begin this thread for Father's Kavita; you honour your father, with your dew-kissed, actions from love!
A man perhaps, being a man(I mean that light-heartedly) never allows themself; to often, to comprehend the love they are receiving from their children/spouse/family and friends and admirers.
This is so very important to honour and cherish; for those whom have father's whom deserve such a wonderful, enlightening accolade such as yours to your father; because, it is through the father; becomes the son and daughter; and it is through the mother, comes the life.
I take this moment, to honour your father with you; it is in knowing our parent's "history" that we learn about them.
May the Universe heal all bridges, yet to be crossed.
North
Thank you North. I'm deeply touched again as I am by many of your posts which I read often.
The essence of love and all that is precious comes to us from different sources. My father just happens to be one of those sources for me.
You have a lot of love and compassion within you and may you receive the same blessings and love from the special people and miracles meant for you.
A toast in the honor of all fathers!
May the time for us to let them go lie far away and the pain of separation be overwhelmed by the riches they will leave behind.
Touching post, Kavita
Smiles and Blessings, Kavita! It is enlightening, and warm-heartening; to know you and others perhaps find my thoughts, driftings and aspirations, inspiring. I sincerly thank you for your shared kindness.
North
Kavita,
Thanks for your post. It is sad that we often don't acknowledge all that our dads do for us. Just like in your case, my dad is my hero. He has been the light of wisdom that has shown me the way through the innumerable tough times that I have gone through. I have always seen him smiling. It gives me strength. What's more, till date he has never raised his hand on me or any of my siblings. My father is a believer in dialog, and ever since I can remember, he always used to sit us down and have a discussion on any family issues that needed to be addressed. This ritual is still followed in my home. What makes this special is the fact that right from childhood, my father has always respected all his children, as also their views.
My dad has high regards for my mother, and loves her dearly. He has always expressed this umpteen number of times through his actions (many a times in my mother's absence). My dad has always said that women are the pillars of society. Thanks to him, I am very proud to be a woman in this male dominated society.
He is also an excellent cook, and has always made it a point to contribute actively in the household chores. Infact, I am proud to say that much of the cooking skills that I have acquired, are thanks to my dad.
There are so many more little things about my dad that I would like to share with you. But much of it you have already mentioned about your dad. Thank you Kavita, for making me realise what a special place my dad holds in my heart. God bless you.
couldn't resist putting this pix-one of my favorites of my dad!
As gorgeous as he is wonderful!! Thanks Kavita.
MORAL OF THE STORY :
16 SERVANTS(degrading term) + DAD = BORING BLOG WRITER
COMPASSION:- MAKING TEA FOR THOSE UNDER PAID SERVANTS
YOU DONT NEED TO BRAG ABOUT YOUR DAD , LIVE YOUR LIFE IN WAY THAT MAKES OTHERS WANT TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR PARENTS.
OH AND MOST GREAT MEN IN HISTORY WERE DADS AND THEY ARE KNOWN BECAUSE THIER DAUGHTER'S RANT.
HEY TELL ME MORE ABOUT THOSE 16SERVANTS, I BET THEY WERE NOT ALLOWED TO SIT ON THE CHAIR
On the contrary, they were well respected, one of them injured in the war personally cared for by my mom and all of us had to address them respectfully as bade bhaiya(older brother) or maaji or didi. Many remained in the family long after as did their children, till my parents paid for the education of many of those children so they could go and get better jobs.
and the fact that this post got you reading it means I'm not THAT BORING! :) and hey I have a dad I can brag about. what about you?
Wow..once again with great simplicity you have reminded the importance of human relationships.People who survived 1947 were very brave and I can only imagine your grand ma's fear and struggle to hold on.
I can totally relate to story telling part,as abba used to do the same with us.He would tell us stories about hatim tai and they were all full of magic,fairies and jinns.I still remember little things about childhood and am very thankful for those precious memories.Childhood memories bring smile amidst all madness.
I for once love reading your blogs please keep posting such simple but thought provoking life experiences!!!
thanks
aray Kavita jee,
main nay tumara likhan parna shuroo keeya. tumari angrazi badi ajeeb see hai. chaar panch laeenay pad kar yaeh lagga ke tum sochtee to ho hindi/punjabi main aur likhtee ho angrazee main. Ya jo anrezee pahree hai idar-udar, us ko yahaan jod-jad kar likhtee ho.Yeh batt theek nahin baithi.
Mujhe zabban seekhnay ka bahut shok hai. ek aarz karta hoon kay jo tum angrazzee main likhtee ho us ko kabhi kabhi Hindi/Punjabi main translate kar kay dekho, to tumay laggay ga kay tumari angrezze kahan kahan bhagtee phirtee hai.
Tum battao tumnay west kay kin kin writers ko angrazee main padha hai. shaid tumaray likhnay kay vichar achhay hain, kabhi apni angrezi kee tarf bhi dyaan do.
Kavita jee, gussa na karna. Aur agar kar liya to, maafee kar dena. Main nay yeh sub kuch tumari angrazee kay baray main likha hai, tumaray baray main nahin.
Ik punjab da munda amreeka which rahin walla,
WW
Good afternoon, Kavita;
It is in my greatest desire right NOW; that you have the cognitive ability, experience and maturity to not give "way" to negative forces.
Do not let their seed, be planted in your love for your father's accolade Kavita; set yourself free, by not absorbing the words, nor action to which negativity is manifested from.
I have four siblings; all taking turns in life; poking anger and hatred towards our abonding Dad; but, it was not ours to judge, nor harm; we do not know "his story." I hold no qualms, nor do I let the abandonement of my Father; prevent my growth as a fourty-nine year old woman.
I speak to you from the heart of a Fatherless Child; whom has grown to know; the importance of life's experiences; and not to hold onto the past of any kind; it cannot be changed.
We can only mold NOW;
and NOW, I share again with you today; good tidings, blessings and abundant positiveness, to your already wonderful self and family; and to all those positive people here sharing with you and me; their waves of only good intentions.
North
Dear Arjunan; with respect I ask you;
"put down your drink of anger;
Come, share with us;
a cup of love and respect
for you; and all men;
for they ARE; the arms from which we build
nations of unity-cause and effects for peace."
North
Thank you very much North. My responses are never tinged with irritation just curiosity and humor and a desire to engage in dialogue-unfortunately my grin doesnt show up alas since we arent live- but I try to explain further and ask questions as I did of arjunan wondering if we could hear soem stories of his dad from him-would be cool as I see some really nice ones here
thank you for your concern and love..its awesome to have you on my side!
white wings ji,
tuadi post waste tanvaad..tuano agar meri angrezi pasand nai te kyon apniya ankhan nu takleef dende ho.
hor wi hege ithey badee changi angrezi likhan wale..unha di taraf tavajjo deo.
baki main changi angrezi likhan di koshish kardi ravangi
kavita jee,
haey rabba, manoon jis gul da dar see, ohee gul hoee. main pehlay ton hee tuaday toon maafee mung layee see.
kavia jee, guusa na karo. main sirif char-panj laeena hee tuhadian parhian hun. Merian akhan theek hun, par tuhadi angrezee mainoo badee ajeeb laggan par gayee see. Manoon kavita likhan da bahout shok hai, tay main es site tay Shekhar Kapur jee di IF kavta tay aapni kavita naal jawaab day riha saan, taan main tuhaddi likhan parhan lagga.
main tuhaddi changi likhaan di khawash karda han. tuadee punjabi par kay badi kushee hoee hai. Agar tuanoon kavita likhan/parhan da shok hoey taan likhna, main tuanoo aapnee link bhej diyan ga.
WW
ww ji...
main te has ke likhi si oh post tusi kyon samajde ho ki main naraaz han..par assi sab loki hor wi achcha likhan di koshish kar sakte haige, nahin?
tusi jaroor link bhejo ..teh hamesha khush ravo
Mi la vida; esta bueno
como esta usted?
bueno, graci;
adios, ciao
hasta manana.
well, that's about as far as my "2nd language" goes. (giggles)
ha ha-touche North! I'm on the computer all day today trying to finish assignments hence am here on the blog reading stuff..that is a conversation in Punjabi written in english..how crazy can it get!
kavita ji,
es gul da shukar hoya kay tussen naraaz nahin hoey. main tuanoo hun sirif ik hee link bhej riha haan. sulekha.com day utaay mareean dus-giyarraan link hun, sarreean hee sarreean poetry deeyan. agar tuhanno eh link chungee laggee, taan phir main doosreeyan links bhej dewaan ga.
http://www.sulekha.com/groups/DiscussionHome.aspx?forumid=903895
agar time milyaa taan jawab dehna.
ik punjabi munda amreeka which
WW
Hola North:
I just thought you might like to have some of your poetry translated into your "2nd language".
Enjoy
LA POETA TIENE QUE CONSEGUIR
La poeta tiene que tender la mano
y lanzar vientos de inspiración
y de imaginación
en los pensamientos resonados
de la màs íntima, profunda voz
de sus lectores.
DDS 6-17-2000
ha ha hey guys get back to honoring fathers!
Sorry, Kavita...
We just felt a little lonely....
MR.NORTH YOUR HEADING SOUTH WITH YOUR REMARKS
WHAT YOU SAW IS JUST MY OPINION, I DONT HATE OR HAVE ANY ANGER TOWARDS KAVI. SO IF I DONT AGREE, I MUST HAVE HATE IN MY HEART. WORDS ARE JUST SYMBOLS NOT REALITY.
YOU SHOULD SAVE THOSE POEMS FOR THE ENEMY LINE.
WE ALWAYS NEED A VILLAN TO MAKE A STORY INTERESTING , SINCE EVERYONE IS KISSING UP, THOUGHT I TAKE ON THAT ROLE.
HOW LONG IS IT GOING TO TAKE BEFORE PEOPLE START TO BRAG ABOUT THEIR PRIVATE PARTS.
HEY KAVI WE NEED FIGHT SCENES, SO LETS FIGHT . BUT AT THE END IT JUST A PLAY ...LEELA.
That last line is cute Arjunan..but I prefer prem leela to mahabharata! :) And I didnt think even for a moment that you spoke from hate. Every one is entitled to his or her opinion and I would still love to hear some cool stories about yourself and people who inspire you, from you..
Incidentally the villains these days have become awfully attractive, but that is the charm of kalyug ki leela!
But I still like having North by my side..she is way cool..and in a villainous way so are you:)
Hola Chryssoula,
I am pleased to see that you know the Spanish language. Well, if you are feeling a little lonely, please browse the following link for a while:
http://www.sulekha.com/groups/DiscussionHome.aspx?forumid=901308
I love to translate Spanish poetry. Perhaps we can collaborate.
Cheers
WW
ww,
I liked your Rumi translations very much..He is one of my favorites along with Kahlil Gibran- will read more over the weekend.
"but I prefer prem leela to mahabharata!"
Do you mean to say you like prem leela more than you like mahabharata?
Angrezee, haey rabba, phir mud ke angrezee! Kitnee ajeeb zabaan hai eh?
Cheers
WW
It certainly is- cut is katt and put doesnt become patt..but its a fun language..and I have a preference-just because you prefer one over the other doesnt mean you have to like it as well! Go figure!
Kavita ji,
I have translated few hundred poems from one language to another, including Hindi, Punjabi, English, Urdu, Spanish and Portuguese. I can send you more links later. I would like to publish an anthology of Indian poetry into English free verse. Send me some contemporary Punjabi poetry, if you please. I am glad you liked Rumi renderings.
Cheers
WW
Can you read gurmukhi? I dont know if you have heard of bhai bhagwan singh giani one of the leaders of the ghadar party. His grandson had a book of some wonderful poems published in gurmukhi.
You can reach him at spsingh4200@aol.com. He would be delighted to have you do english translations.
HEY KAVI,
I MUST RECKON, I CHECKED OUT YOUR WEB SITE RIGHT NOW, I REALLY LIKED IT.
Thank you very much Arjunan
Kavita,
Yes, I can read gurmukhi. Thanks for the info.
WW
WW
glad to be of service if I can -
I can manage French, German and (new and ancient) Greek very well, some Italian and some Portuguese
Unfortunately, I am only a beginner in Hindi :-(
I could send you some translations from time to time so that you can enrich your poem selection
Chryssoula
What a beautiful tribute, Kavita! Your father reminds me of my dear departed grandfather for the love and respect he inspired in everyone - he was also a military man.
Love, Sheba
Hola Kavita : )
Chryssoula; thanks for translating my poem into spanish! That is so cooL! I'm afraid though; my spanish has faded over time; I only took it in high school too many years ago now.
wow, it's real cooL to see it in a 2nd language; wow!
A few years ago; I tried to get a friend to translate into french; being as my country is both french and english; I was really surprised about how much can get lost in translation.
Anyway, good morning to ALL... and Birthday Blessings to Deepak today!
North
Kavita, hello; I have a small paper-back of Kahlil Gibran and Mary Haskell; I"ll have to dig it out one day; it was given to me from my eldest sister; on my wedding day.
Kahlil captured my heart; from him; I was intro'd to Rumi; one of my fave's of all time however, is: Hiawatha by: Longfellow
This book was given to me by a very old lady in 1977, informing me; I reminded her of the story; as, as then, as now(oh yuk, to many as's!!) I see all things as a journey towards infinite wisdom within.
Anyway, love poetry; verse and the hidden mysteries of "language" that can make or break communication between 2 or more people.
So amazing! Anything creative; is to me, wildly exposing uninhibited desire and vision of every human emotion possible!
Nothing else, demonstrates human emotion; such as these ways.
North
Dear Arjunan, I am a woman. your remarks rubbed a sore spot on me; as I saw it so negative; on a beloved Father's Tribute post.
I too, as you; spoke of my response to yours.
And now; you have spoke your response, towards me.
I see no warring between us; other than differing points of view. As per usual; communicatin oft becomes at the discretion of the reader; not so much the speaker.
Once again; I offer you to drink from the cup of love; which is extended towards you.
IF, my speaking so candidly about issue's to which I am involved exclusively; is a matter of too a personal, disclosure; I am sorry it bothers you.
but, so much as it is; bringing down the barriers of understanding; as Deepak so eloquently put it; Bringing Down our Berlin Wall's is up to each of us; to give way; to an imbedded negative perspective.
So; to this extent at this point; I propose this: Skip/Ignore/Pass my posts; if you find them not to your taste in communication/subject/interest.
Remember the story of the fence; there are two sides to every "thing" and to everything, two sides.
I prefer, the view from the fence; it is more enveloping and expanded, a view.
I am an older lady; mushy in the heart; and not afraid to show/talk/BE affection; it begets peaceful and tranquil "states" of beingness which I find quite pleasing to me.
North
Dear Kavita,
That was a beautiful homage to your father. How wonderful that he has made such an enormous impact on you.
I lost my father when I was 4. He was a 29 year old professional Hockey player and in a freak accident was killed on the ice. All my life, those that did NOT know him talked to me about his athletic abilities, points scored and college records broken. However, those that did know him NEVER talked of his athletic abilities, especially his team mates...what they talked about was what kind of a person he was. He was the kind of person that during adult parties spent his time playing with the children of the other players in the room designated as the "kids" room. He was the kind of person that spent time building others up rather than worrying about his own image. He was the kind of person that when bringing his family for ice cream brought all of the neighbor kids too. After his death the NHL (National Hockey League)gave out an award...the award was not for performance, but for the player with the greatest heart, sportsmanship and love.
Thank you for reminding me to think about my father by telling us about yours :0)>.
Peace,
Scott.
Thank you Scott, that was a deeply moving post. I'd be thrilled if you would put together a story about your father along with pictures, and send it to me. I would love to publish it on my online emag which will feature inter ethnic stories from November.(www.kavitachhibber.com) I have a global audience of about 160,000 right now since the emag was launched and what a wonderful way to let the world know about him.
We often remember the people who have made an impact in our lives, or even precious moments, only when they become memories. I hope that with this post, every one would cherish not just the memories of people like you father who passed away so young, but also take time off to tell the loved ones around them how much of an impact they have made in their loves- "I love you' and "I'm sorry" are often not used enough along with hugs!
North, hope you are feeling better after that fall and all the other curveballs life has thrown your way..you have the positive and loving spirit to overcome things.
Scott; that was very touching; and I feel honoured to have read your words that led to a deep heart construct for you. It is often in sharing; that we can find a common road/ground/way to peace and harmony about shared human experience.
So again; here's to Father's and Mother's; our ancient-link; to the Godness of All Creation that IS.
North
Scott - so your dad is Bill Masterton?? Wow. Growing up in a home where hockey ruled, I've heard about him my whole life.
I remember you once writing about the pressure put on you to become a hockey player because of your dad so now I understand it. I mean, I think most "sons of" feel that pressure anyways, but it would be more so if the father had died so young. I'm glad you were able to find your athletic place in the martial arts - a much better "arena" to display all of your skills AND qualities. I hope you take Kavita up on her offer as I'd love to read your own personal tribute to him.
Love, Sheba
Hi Sheba,
If you remember my dad you must either be Canadian or from the Northern US (LOL)! That was 37 years ago in January.
Interestingly, my last professional fight was 25 years to the day that my dad died. I ended up with a badly dislocated and broken knee (that now at 41 years old is better than when I was 20 thanks to Yoga and Meditation). The day after the fight I had my leg in a big cast laying on the couch (chasing painkillers with Budweiser) when the phone rang. It was a Vancouver sports columnist. I was sure that he was calling about the fight (I was at the time the US Middleweight Kickboxing champion and the number one world contender). I started talking about the fight, how I had won every round and it was dumb luck that I slipped on excess water. He had absolutely NO idea what I was talking about and went on to tell me that yesterday had been the 25th Anniversary of my fathers’ death and he wanted to do a memorial story for him. He tied in the Kickboxing thing along with the fact that I was the Same age as my Dad was when he died.
Anyway, it made for an interesting twist to his story and for me a reminder of the fragilitly of life.
Kavita,
I was be happy to put something together for you.
Peace All,
Scott.
Scott; check out: Hockey Heritage North - Kirkland Lake
I think it's:
www.hockeyheritagenorth.ca
Amazing "who" is there; and we are searching for "who should" be there.
North
yep, that's the link; not sure why it didn't underline as one though? but, I just checked it; and it is.
http://www.hockeyheritagenorth.ca/
North
Hi Scott! Yes, I'm Canuck - living in Toronto. I don't remember your dad but because of the trophy, I've heard about him a lot. I still can't believe I didn't put 2 & 2 together regarding your last name ;-)
That's a really interesting story about the anniversary of your dad's death... and kind of embarassing about how hockey-centric we are up here. I look forward to reading your story.
North - I believe that Scott's dad is American which would explain why he isn't on the Canadian site you referenced.
But for those who are curious, here's a link about the Bill Masterton trophy:
http://www.nhl.com/hockeyu/history/trophies/masterton.html
What a great tribute to such a remarkable man.
Love to all,
Sheba
Hi Sheba and North,
Actually my mother and father are both from Winnipeg Manitoba. However, he went to school at the University of Denver and played for the Minnesota Northstars. It was in the Northstars first season that he was killed.
Peace,
Scott.
Hello Scott; thanks for the insight; I doubt then, your Dad would be in the HHN here in KL; b/c it's mainly for northern ontario players whom played in the NHL. I am so looking forward to it opening very soon; hosting the world's largest hockey puck to boot; and upscale digital interactive hologram library to view player profiles; all state of the art; and quite a much-needed tourist attraction for this little ghost, mining town.
North
Thanks, Scott. So does this mean we're related?? ;-)
I too, feel very blessed for the father I have. He raised me with love, care and wings to fly.
And now, in recent months, the man who has been so strong, and never wavered to care for 7 children, and made many sacrifices - to meet our needs - has slowed in walk, and in speaking, and his eyes are not as bright and clear.
Yet, the warmth of his smile is ever present, and his hugs, as always, are sweet and nurturing. I do love him so!
Thanks to all the posts here, and to your sharing Kavita.
With love,
~~ K
Thank you for honoring fathers!
Teri
Feminist4Fathers
http://feminist4fathers.blogspot.com/
Thank you, Chryssoula
It will be fun. Please contact me at
http://www.sulekha.com/groups/DiscussionHome.aspx?forumid=880671.
Please become a member of this site. I will make you a member of any of my groups you would like to join. Just send me a request through the Sulekha website. I can contact you directly if you send me your email address.
I think we should not use the Intentblog space for our poetry translations.
Cheers
White Wings
Thans Kavi,
for inviting me to write about my dad, my dad is not with us and if did write about him, my writing will be filed in the comment section. Like you I want to come up in life, then I will proudly brag about him somewhere but on the front page. oh yeah with a picture to boot.
I really admire your writing skills, truly an art.
Sheba,
As far as our being related...Canada is a big place but with few people (relatively). Anything is possible :0).
Peace,
Scott.
Thanks every body. Arjunan, coming up in life is a very relative thing. I'm sure you have some wonderful qualities and talents that already make you special. All of us are sent with something that becomes our own unique calling, and I see so many articulate and talented people on this site.
Dont wait to appreciate your dad. I'm sure we will all enjoy reading about him.
These days a lot of men help out with the kids, and are very involved with their upbringing and its really nice to see that.
In a very odd way I envy you so for having such a father, human being and a man in your life..I tried hard to think that way about my father but I sort of failed... chuckle chuckle... it's not as if he's a bad person..he's good in his own way but..i probably just expect too much from people...
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Recent Comments
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sanjukta commented on THIS IS TO HONOR ALL FATHERS
In a very odd way I envy you so for having such
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kavita Chhibber commented on THIS IS TO HONOR ALL FATHERS
Thanks every body. Arjunan, coming up in life i
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Scott Masterton commented on THIS IS TO HONOR ALL FATHERS
Sheba,
As far as our being related...Ca
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ARJUNAN commented on THIS IS TO HONOR ALL FATHERS
Thans Kavi,
for inviting me to write abou -
White Wings commented on THIS IS TO HONOR ALL FATHERS
Thank you, Chryssoula
It will be fun. P
i m just wondering wats the moral of this story??