My father was a complicated man, a character some might say. He was very smart, he held his own in conversations about history, politics, and religion. While working shifts, he attended night school at McMaster University. I remember my mother telling us to be quiet because dad had an essay to write. He was a steel worker, who at one time had dreams of being a teacher, but with a family to support, teacher’s college was out of reach.
He was also a man I really could never really figure out. Take a look at this picture of me as a toddler, note the bottom right hand corner.