My Dad is the strong silent type. Silent really being the word, because my Dad is really a man of few words. Dad just doesn't seem to really need words, where as I can't seem to be quiet for more that a minute or two. As I have said in the past I have never doubted my father's love, but he has never been the mushy lovey type. I feel like I need to correct that last statement, Dad was never the mushy lovey type with my sister and I, with my kids.... that is another story. When Dad is around my kids I wonder where "My" father has gone. That older gentleman strongly physically resembles the man that was "my" father, but the strong silent type is replaced by "I need kisses." "I love you", followed by tickles and cuddles, and deafening laughter from my children.
Last year my father who does not know that he is turning 70 in a few weeks was out cutting wood with a chain saw, and a piece of the wood flew up and smashed him in the face, breaking his nose... again. The local ear nose and throat doctor that he saw felt that to correct Dad's nose was beyond his skills to repair. The result was that Dad was referred to "MY" lovely Dr. Oakley Smith in Toronto.
This was not Dad's first broken nose. I am pretty sure that Dad may have lost count as to how many times he has broken his nose (I personally broke it once with a phone when I was three, maybe Elly breaking mine was Karma).
Yesterday morning just my Dad and I set out for Toronto to see Dr. Oakley Smith. I needed to see him for a check up, and this was Dad's initial visit. I am not going to lie, I did not know how a trip of possibly three hours if traffic was bad would go. Remember, my Dad is the strong "silent type". That would be a lot of dead space for me to fill with verbal diarrhea. I don't think ever in my entire nearly 42 years that I have spent that much time alone with just my Dad.
Dr. Smith's office is near the just off the Danforth. As we drove up Coxwell Avenue Dad started pointing out different things. "I used to play football over there at East York Collegiate" "I played hard ball over there." I learned something about my Dad's past. We were in Dad's old stomping grounds. I did not know it, but Dad grew up where we were. "I remember when they were building the Don Valley Parkway, and I would go over to collect tad poles". It was really neat to me. I learned something about my Dad, something I would have never known if we had not done this trip together.
The roads were good. The traffic was good. We made great time. I walked into my house last night with this big smile on my face and a feeling of great contentment. I had a really great day with my Dad. Just Dad and I. There was never any uncomfortable silences, just easy conversation. It was a really, really nice day.