Five Years After, Still Miss You Dad

It is hard to believe that another year has passed since my father, Frank Sigurdson's death on February 2, 2010. Needless to say, I miss him terribly and I know that so many others do as well. Still, his memory provides us with a great deal of comfort.

For all of us, I imagine, remembering someone is a uniquely personal experience. For me, as a father myself, I can't help but reflect on how much I learned about being a parent from my own dad. We are different people, of course, but I like to think that I absorbed some of his lessons about being a supportive, compassionate and present father.

More recently, as I grow older, I can't help marking my own timelines and thinking about where dad was in his life at the stage I'm at now. Well, here we diverge quite a bit. Thankfully, I'm in pretty good health (or at least I hope I am) at the present. But for Dad, unfortunately, the age I'm at now was when he suffered a very severe second heart attack and underwent triple bypass surgery. These were events that totally changed his life. For one thing, he decided to take early retirement. (Now, for me, retirement is something I never even think about, and don't see how I could ever afford it - but that is another story). As for Dad, I am sure that he left behind hopes and unfulfilled career objectives, but retirement also suited him very much and he and Mom got to spend lots of happy years together. Yet, his health concerns did limit his quality of life, especially in his later years.

In spite of that, I remember Dad in his retirement years as an exceptionally connected grandfather. Even for his grandchildren in England or those living in far-away places in Canada, Dad was an interested and highly interactive presence in their lives. He took to computers, for instance, and used each new technological opportunity to keep in touch. He never missed a key life event, and when he saw them, his grandchildren were the centre of his attention. I don't know what sort of grandfather I might be, but again, I could take lessons from the master.

Dad was always proud of his Icelandic heritage, and it is too bad that he did not live to see his granddaughter, Erika, pursuing her academic career at the University of Iceland and living there with her husband, Jason. But again, he did spend time with her in Iceland, on a very meaningful trip. In 2009, only a few months before his death, I took Dad to Iceland for a wonderful visit. It was very special that Erika came up from  England, where she was doing her PhD, to join us for the week we were in Reykjavik (Dad and I then took a car up north to Akureyri, where his mother's people still live). We rented a lovely, roomy apartment in this city and spent lots of time together. Those are fond memories.

Dad would have loved to have seen Charlotte graduate from law school, and he would have loved to be at her upcoming wedding to Lee, whom I know Dad would have really liked. He loved to have family around and to celebrated happy times, so a year full of weddings would have been great for him. My daughter Lorraine is also getting married, and also to a terrific guy, Mike, who Dad would love. Anton's upcoming graduation from Engineering is another event Dad will miss. But it is nice to think of him on those happy occasions, and to be able to say honestly just how much he'd enjoy them. It is a bond we have, because of how important he was to us all.

Finally, a sad thing for me, though, is that my youngest, Nola, never had the chance to get to know my father -- or either of her grandfathers -- both of whom would have been so terrific for her. (Below is a photo of Dad and baby Nola.)

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)