Sunday evening ...

It's Sunday night and I'm at my laptop - reading and writing work-related emails late in the evening, preparing for the coming week. It makes me think of my dad. Every Sunday night during the school year, my dad, who was a school principal, would brew a pot of coffee and sit at the dining room table (the same table, btw, that I'm now so proud to have in my own home). He'd pull out a stack of papers that he had to go through, concentrating grumpily, and prepare for his week ahead. I remember this vividly. It's one of my strongest memories of my dad during my childhood years. And now, my own Sunday night routine reminds me so much of his (though he didn't work at a laptop). It also reminds me of how dearly I miss him. Every day, not just Sundays.

Father's Day

It's Father's Day and, of course, I miss my dad today. He was always one to enjoy special days of any kind -- birthdays, holidays, mother's and father's days. He loved to have the family close to him, and was so often the centre around which most of the activity revolved. Dad was truly in his element with a grandchild on his knee, while holding court with everyone else about the hottest topics of the day.

One of my special memories with Dad came almost exactly this time of year in 2009 when he and I took a trip to Iceland. Erika came up from England and joined us for a week in Reykjavík (where, coincidently, she now lives) and we had a terrific time with relatives and sightseeing. Then Dad and I drove to Akureyri, where we visited with another large group of relatives. Although his health was not great at the time (he passed away just seven months after this trip), he amazed me with his energy and enthusiasm for everyone we met and every place we saw. It was particularly special to see the farm where my grandmother was born, and to get a feel for the landscape of that beautiful part of the world. (Below are photos of Dad in Akureyri and at the church next to his mother's farm.)

Anyway, Happy Father's Day, Dad! We miss you but we're grateful that you've left us with so many wonderful memories.

Grandpa's "selfie"

Another year has gone by since the passing of my father, Frank Sigurdson. I think about him a lot and miss him tremendously. I wish he could have been here to experience the events of the past year, giving us all support and advice, helping us enjoy the "ups" and get through the "downs" of our lives. He was always there for us, even in the later years when he was struggling with health problems. Dad put others first, and cared about every member of the family with equal attention and respect.

Today some of the family will gather at my brother Chris's house to watch the Super Bowl, as has become a tradition over the years. I'm sorry that I won't be there, and know that there is still a big absence felt without Dad there. He loved that event, and was always the most keen on the toonie-per-person betting on the outcome. Of course there's no way to know for sure, but I wonder who he'd be pulling for in today's game? The Broncos because he'd want to see Peyton Manning get another title late in his career? Or the Seahawks because they're the upstarts (and close to Vancouver, where he'd always had an affinity)?

For me, this year marks my own awareness that I am now at the same age when Dad had his first heart attack. While this was the start of many years of health challenges for him, it also led to some positive changes in his life that allowed him, in spite of a more massive heart attack a year later, to enjoy a full and rewarding life for many years after these cardiac events. He and Mom had many years together in retirement, allowing them to travel and share their love for cottage life. Dad was indeed blessed, not just to have those valuable years of living, but to have such a wonderful partner to share them with.

So while I am sad on this day, as I am often when I think of Dad and so selfishly miss him, I'm also thankful that he had such a full and happy life, surrounded by so many people that loved him and that he loved so dearly. Really, what more can anyone wish for out of life?

Richard Sigurdson (February 2, 2014)

Grandpa Frank and Nola Dueck-Sigurdson

My Dad was a wonderful, complicated, intelligent, funny and very loving man. Frank Sigurdson died four years ago today (Feb. 2, 2010) and I miss him even more as every year goes by. He had an enormous heart. As a school principal in Winnipeg’s inner city he worked hard to better the lives of the mostly native and immigrant children he served. Dad loved life and fought vigorously against many health obstacles in his final years and did so with the perfect mixture of tenacity and grace. Here he is with my niece Nola, the last of Mom and Dad’s nine grandchildren, sharing the joy of her new life! - Norman Sigurdson (February 2, 2014)