Christmas Reflections Part 2 Journey of My Lifetime

The other day marked the 24th anniversary of the passing of my partner's father. It is always a difficult time of year for her.

Driving to work on that day the radio had a feature interviewing people at the airport. One interview in particular caught my ear. One lady said she was coming home to Winnipeg with her husband because her mother was dying and wouldn't be around much longer.

I got yo work and called my partner and said I was feeling weepy and thinking of my partner's dad. Shelley and her dad were best friends. They had a special relationship, she was his spitfire, a go getter, good student and a Page in the House of Commons. I know where Shelley got her quick wit and intellect. I am sorry I never got to meet him. I feel that I know him and what a great man he was through Shelley.

My partner says that people need to be supportive and non-judgemental of others. Advise she gained from her father. I have struggled and continued to struggle wth this. I have been too quick to judge. If I was still this way I would not be in the relationship I am in now.

I first met Shelley 10 years ago and my first impression was not positive. I thought she was conceited, full of herself and a phony. I formed my opinion from one phone call with her where I barely got a word in edge wise and one in person where I heard her giving a speech where I perceived that she was lecturing the audience. My opinion was based solely on this. I didn't know anything about her. How wrong first impressions are?

Years later she told me that she thought I was a conceited, arrogant prick. How we came together in 2010 was fate and through a little shove from a mutual friend at the time.  She reached out and asked me for help with a speech. I agreed and we met a couple of times.

In July of that year I was floundering as usual with women, pursuing something that wasn't there. We were texting back and forth when suddenly she stopped for no reason. I went and moped for a few days. I heard a voice saying take a risk (something my father was prone to say to me). Another voice popped into my head saying Shelley.

I knew exactly what to do. As any self confident male would do I asked her out on a date via email. It took her about a day to respond saying yes.

We met a couple of days later for drinks and appetizers. As usual the date started out well, then soured when we left the restaurant to go for a drive. It seemed that every street had a detour or construction. When I dropped her off, she had that look that said get me out of here and quick. I thought I blew it again.

A couple of days later she phoned and set up our next date. Over the next 6 years we have had our moments and are very much in love with each other, with bigger and better things to come.

Merry Christmas to all and have a great 2017.

Christmas Reflections Part 1

Christmas for a lot of people is not always the happiest of times. For myself, I find my mental health wavers during December. The reason for this is my outer personality presents as a Scrooge and my inner personality loves the spirit of the season. My partner is among several of my friends who are grieving during this time due to a loss of a parent or a sibling.

I love Christmas because I like playing Santa Claus and bringing smiles to people of all ages. I embrace the real meaning of Christmas and enjoy doing the little things to make people happy. Going the extra mile to help someone out in need.

Over the last 10 years I have come along way and changed dramatically. I was insecure, distant, jealous and an envious shit of a man surrounded by negativity. This was most evident at Christmas time.

I have come a long way and still have a ways to go. The other day I was having lunch with my work friend. We first met 10 years ago and she saw me then as a closed, distant hard to get a read on and hard to know. Now she sees me as an open book, confident, funny and good to be around. We have become good friends where we can share openly with each other.

In the past I have been to quick to judge and I would reject and dismiss people before they had a chance to reject and dismiss me. Each day I am learning to become more supportive and less judgemental.

The other day I was at the bar for a drink and another patron who had been there for a while and had a few too many started to become belligerent when he was cut off. He started swearing at everyone and refused to leave when asked.

What brought on this behaviour, I will never know. Maybe Christmas is not a good time of year for him. The lesson learned is walk a mile in another' shoes and give everyone the benefit of the doubt. We do not know what they are dealing with.

I do not have all my shit together and I need to afford others the same courtesy.

The Spirit of the Season

It is the week before Christmas and as I blogged earlier I am conflicted by the Christmas season.

Thirty years ago Christmas Eve my Sunday school students had just presented their portion of the Christmas concert. Out of nowhere my brother shows up with a Santa Claus suit. He wants me to dress and go to his sister-in-law's place.

As I was changing into the suit and after I had gotten dressed my students came by and said hi Andrew. I went and played Santa Claus that night and thus began a love/hate affair I have with the Christmas season.

I love dressing up and playing Santa Claus and bringing joy to everyone. For seven years I was Santa Claus for my company's kid's Christmas party. In latter years I have been Santa Claus at the personal care home where my partner works. From the young to the old the reactions are the same smile, awe, excitement and people trying to pull off your beard. I would also do visits for friends and their kids, siblings or parents. Everyone enjoyed a visit from Santa Claus.

On December 24, 1997 I agreed to be Santa for my friends sister who was in hospital. After work I came home and changed into my suit and set out on the drive across town. People would honk at me at traffic lights. Kids would point through car windows with big smiles on their faces.

I parked across the street from the hospital and grabbed my basket of candy canes. A transit bus had stopped at the traffic light. I crossed the street and he tooted and motioned me to the bus door. I got in the bus and said my HoHoHo's and passed out candy canes.

Five minutes later I walked in the hospital front door. As I walked to the elevator I stopped and said hi to everyone I saw. My heart was pounding and I was hoping that when the door opened it would be empty. It was.

I had four floors to compose myself. The elevator doors opened and my friend was waiting for me. We hugged and she thanked me for doing this. The room was at the far end of the hall past the nursing station. Anyone in the hallway I stopped and talked to.

Finally we reached the room. My heart was pounding and I was sweating on the inside. My friend asked if I was ready, I said lets do it and did a quick check to ready and steady myself.

I walked into the room ringing my bells saying HoHoHo and Merry Christmas greeting the 3 other people in the room. I turned around and saw Bonnie lying on the bed with tubes in her. I reached my hand out and touched her hand, at this moment a wry but pleasant smile came on her face.  Her mouth opened and she let out a snort of laughter.  A calm came over me and all that nervousness went away.   I stayed for a while, lots of pictures were taken, and I made my farewell and my friend walked me to the elevator.  While waiting for the elevator, a woman came to me and asked me to visit her husband.

I walked into a room and saw a motionless gentleman with his mouth agape.  I reached out and took his hand.  He tried to talk but no words came.  All of a sudden, a little smile came across his face.   The smile grew.

I stayed for a while and his wife hugged me as I left.  She had tears streaming down her face.  She thanked me and told me her husband had a severe stroke months ago.  She told me that today was his first smile since the strike.  I thanked her and wished her a Merry Christmas.  

I was glad the elevator was empty.  I was still numb when I stepped into the cold winter air.  I cried all the way to my car.  Tears of joy and gratitude.

I was so sincerely humbled and proud that I could positively affect someone.  This was the spirit of Christmas.  Every time I become Santa, I recall this day confident that I carry the Christmas spirit with me.

Peace on Earth

Here we are December, last month of the year and the holidays to boot. The Christmas Season. A time where I give an outworldy appearance of being a scrooge. Inwardly, I enjoy Christmas and the true spirit of the season.

Doing the little things; going the extra mile to lend a helping hand or put a smile on someone's face. One thing I do and have done for the past 30 years is be Santa Claus (I have my own suit). Last week I was Santa Claus at my partner's work a Personal Care Home. The smiles on the residents faces melts my heart. They are so appreciative and excited to see me. Some of the residents follow me around singing, dancing and trying to pull my beard off.

This year I had an assistant, one of the nurse's sons went around with me handing out candy canes. Ben was so excited that when his mom tried to take him to the mall to see Santa, he told the Santa you are not real, the real Santa comes to my mom's work.

An ultimate compliment paid to me.

You are probably thinking he plays Santa Claus how can I be scrooge. Well I cannot stand the idea of buying presents for people who will not appreciate it no matter what is given. I cannot stand the idea that the gift giving is about outdoing each other to see who gets the biggest, baddest, best present of them all. The stores start advertising and selling Christmas merchandise earlier and earlier each year. By the time December 25th rolls around I am already sick of the commercialization of it.

It can be a very depressing time and I know my mental health wavers at this time of year. The simplest of things can and do bring the brightest rewards.

November musings

November draws to a close, it has been a month for the ages.

Ottawa Red Blacks Grey Cup Champions. Great game, lived up to expectations.

After a highly divisive campaign with two disliked candidates the United States did the unthinkable. They elected a misogynist, bully blowhard with no political experience as President.

A result that will leave the country further divided. A result that has produced riots in big cities because the vote didn't go their way.

One of the best things about the election was Saturday Night Live's electoral parodies. Alec Baldwin and Kate McKinnon nailing their portrayals of the candidates. Even having the decency and integrity to break character and urge Americans to vote.

You know you have made an impact on society when Trump took exception to his portrayal. If you can't take the heat get out of the kitchen. It may get worse for you Donald and Alec Baldwin's parody of you will not be the worst of it. If any one was to be offended it would be Hillary who was portrayed in a lesser light.

As Dave Chappelle said on the November 12/16 episode of SNL, let's give Trump a chance, see what he can do. In that same episode Kate McKinnon gave a stirring rendition on the piano of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah as a fitting tribute.

Leonard Cohen was one of the famous people to leave us this month. A great Canadian who left his mark in many fields as a poet, singer, songwriter, composer and activist whose haunting voice will be hard to forget.

Other greats to leave us this month include Dave Broadfoot long time regular on the Royal Canadian Air Farce who brought us legendary characters as Sgt Renfrew and Big Bobby Clobber. He parodied 2 great institutions The Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the Toronto Maple Leafs.

Janet Reno, the first female Attorney General of the United States. Great actors such as Robert Vaughan (Man from Uncle and Law and Order), Florence Henderson (Mrs. Brady) who most teens like me in the 1970's had a crush on. Ron Glass who played Detective Harris on the classic police comedy Barney Miller. Fidel Castro Prime Minister and President of Cuba. A polarizing figure in many ways.

One of the lasting images I have of him was in 2000 watching the funeral of Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau, there was Fidel Castro seated beside Jimmy Carter.

I am pleased that President Barack Obama reestablished relations with Cuba. Obama will go down as a great President, no scandals in 8 years and encountered every criticism of him with grace, respect and dignity.

I was pleased to meet one of my heroes earlier this month Michael Landsberg. He was sharing his mental health story. A humble and blessed man. Two takeaways from his story that I can relate to when I am depressed. First " when I am having depressive moments, the first thing to go is self confidence". Second " depression robs us of the ability to experience joy".

No truer words are spoken about depression. Check out Michael's website www.sicknotweak.com

I am already looking forward to December and closing the year out on a high note.

Evolution Under Construction

I am enjoying one of my favorite holidays, American Thanksgiving by watching football. It provides me with the opportunity to reassess and reenergize and look forward to 2017.

Last week I reflected on what would have been my father's 87th birthday. I drink scotch 2x a year, his favorite drink to his memory. Once on his birthday and once on the anniversary of his passing. He has been gone now for 11 years and miss him more and more each day. He loved history, current events and sports (the real football Chelsea was his favorite team).

I would of loved to ask him questions about the US election and his take on how a msogynist, racist, bully and blowhard is President elect. His insight as this vote came to fruition would have been valuable knowledge moving forward.

In the last 10 years of his life I understood him and worked hard to reignite a relationship with him. I stepped out of my comfort zone and stopped listening to other people's and my own viterol.

When I first started dating my partner, I thought I did not want her to meet my father had he been alive. My father like all of us had his flaws and one of his flaws was he liked women and had a wandering eye. He would bat his eyes at pretty women when I was with him in public. Because of my own flaws I was intimidated by pretty women.

I was extremely jealous, lacked confidence and didn't know how to talk to women. I went on a lot of first dates, not too many second or third dates. I was even stood up on several blind dates.

This is not to say I didn't have girlfriends because I did. I would somehow find a way to screw things up. By being jealous or just being a shit. I wad always trying to hard to please and not being myself.

The ironic thing is all but 2 of my former girlfriends I am friends with on social media. Do I guess I couldn't of been that much of a shit or else why are they friends with me on social media.

My current partner Shelley or Shell going on 6 and  1/2 years now, I feel like I hit the mother lode. We complete each other. She brought me out of my shell (pardon the pun) and showed me what you present to the world you will get back. She also showed me how to confront my demons and to stand up for myself.

When we first started dating I was angry, irritable and clearly in a rut going nowhere. My father told me to take risks and see where they take you. This is what I did with Shell when I asked her out via email. I am thankful every day that she accepted my request. She later told me she never turned down a date request when she was single.

About 4 months in we were out for a walk when she stopped me and said I think you are low grade depression. It made sense, all of the anger, irritability, outbursts and mood swings. I was depressed and had been depressed for many years going back to my teenage years when my parents seperated.

The layers of the onion were being peeled off and I was recalling all of these moments from the last 30+ years except now I added the context to them.

October 24, 2010 was a watershed moment. The recovery started and continues to be...

Taking some control over Something I can't control

In my last blog I mentioned that I was depressed and didn't really know why. I thought it was stress related which it is. I believe that the American election is making me depressed. Two of the most disliked candidates in American history. On one hand you have the pompous, narcissistic, misogynist windbag Donald Trump and on the other hand you have a career public servant who is not seen as trustworthy by a large swath of the American public Hillary Clinton.

I think initially this was a media dream matchup created by the media. However, with less than 3 weeks before the election and November 8th can't come soon enough, many Americans are saying is this the best we have to offer.

The three Presidential debates although have been great for comic relief and late night fodder, they lacked the substance of real debates discussing real issues affecting people's lives. All they did was degenerate into pissing matches with each side trading insults against each other.

Trump trying to defend his life and repeating his same old tired message of make America Great Again by building a wall, taking great pride in his endorsement form the NRA, calling his opponent crooked Hillary and that nasty women.

Hillary who has some substance and not much credibility baited him at every opportunity. She gave him the rope and he put the noose around his neck.

America is in bad shape for the next 4 years. I wish we could have another 4 years of Obama. There has got to be better people to step up to the plate in 4 years time. Joe Biden yes, Ted Cruz no (thank god he denounced his Canadian citizenship, we don't want him)

Trump is a bully and with bullies they enjoy putting other people down and when the tables are turned like Alec Baldwin satirising him on SNL they suddenly don't want to play the game. You can't have it both ways, and if the heat is too hot, get out of the kitchen.

We all have people in our life, who are bullies and push our buttons. Bullies lack something that they feel they need to put you down in order  to feel good about themselves.

The election is totally out of my control.   It is going forward regardless.   That's often what life offers us and we get depressed.   But, in every situation, there is a way, somehow to take control of some part of the issues that makes us depressed.  Even researching online, but doing something that helps you take control.

How, I have dealt with my depression the last few weeks is listening and watching people like John Oliver, Samantha Bee (great Canadian), Bill Maher, Steven Colbert, Trevor Noah rip the candidates and the process to shreds. They truly say laughter is the best medicine and these 2 blowhards have been great comic relief not so great for America going forward. Lets all pray for America they will need it

A Page I Want to Turn

I haven't been feeling right for about a month now. I am flat emotionally and out of sorts.

I am allowing the little things to get the better of me. The other day, a perfect example, the zipper on my jacket got messed up and it threw me off for several hours if not the whole day.

Earlier this week I missed work and my brother asked me if it was physical or mental. I replied both. When I returned to work the next day, my manager asked the same question, I replied the same and she said mental health days are important and I am in need of one myself.

Several months ago I was having a stressful day at work. I had been given several new clients in the same week and I said I can't take another one. As soon as I said this one of the nurses said I have a new client for you. I turned around and wanted to tell them to f...off. I bit my tongue instead (still hurts), smiled and said when do you want it to start.

Fake it to you make it, I said as I walked back to my desk.

Last week at work I had a similar situation. I let one of the nurses get to me (push my buttons), all the hairs on my neck stood at attention. I wanted to tell her how I felt except again I smiled and said how can I help you. I then went and vented with one of my support network. It is great to have support close by at work.

I have gained 10 lbs over the last couple of weeks. When I am depressed I reach for my comfort food, snacks and lots of carbs. In fact my partner said the other day, I see you are having another protein free meal.

 I am depressed right now. I think it is stress related.

Stress over family, work, health, money. Stress is a bitch.

Right now is a bad page in my book of life. At times like this I have to remind myself that these lapses will happen from time to time. I have to project positive energy so that the lapse doesn't become a relapse

Continuing to Mourn Through September

 Last weekend I lost a friend and mentor. Rudi was a wise man who I first met in 1989. We were both in Toastmasters. He was in the local leadership and was helpful when we were starting our club.

Our friendship started in 1991 when he took me under his wing and I became his Sargent-at-Arms when he was the leader. It was an education for me as I learned more about the local organization and life in general. Rudi was my guide and confidante. He was always forwarding advice about public speaking and leadership.

Several years ago, I put out a call for assistance in helping a club I was working with. Rudi was the only person who answered my call.

He was full of compassion and integrity. He was ethical, moral and always took the high road. This is what he imparted upon me.

It had been several years since I saw him. We did keep in touch via social media. I enjoyed his witty retorts. He referenced himself as a grumpy old man. This could not have been further from the truth. I miss him already.

Even before hearing of my friends passing I was feeling depleted with low energy. September stirs up memories for me. Memories of loved ones. Three years ago my Aunt June died. She was wise and intelligent. A goldsmith by trade, well read, well versed. Her dugout (yes her dugout) in central Australia was covered with books, movies and sources of wisdom. I loved visiting, we would spend hours talking. Het town mined 70% of the world's opals. It was full of characters chasing their dreams of striking it rich. Or in some cases it was a good place to escape to or from.

Two years ago, my partner's mother died. Lil was special, a survivor in every sense of the word. She loved her family and welcomed me with open arms into her family. When life would put her backwards, she would find a way to take two steps forward. I was her sweetheart.

Why am I sharing about recent deaths? Rightly or wrongly I have a morbid fascination with death. I read obituaries every day. Death affects me a lot. It takes a part of my soul, my fabric. I start thinking about my own mortality. What will my obituary say?  Can I measure up to other people? Who will come to my celebration of life? Who will speak at it?

Whenever someone I know dies my depression makes me feel not worthy enough. I want to be more confident in my own life and abilities. I do not want to judge myself against other people. If I can get to this point than I can truly celebrate life and cherish past memories.

I continue to be a work in progress...

The Age of Innocence

Last month the Rio olympics produced spectacular accomplishments and wonderful stories off inspiration and human survival. Watching the Olympics, brought me back to the time 40 years ago when I was a precocious 12 yr old attended the Montreal Olympics. 

My parents, brother and I spent 2 weeks in and around Montreal caught up in Olympic fever. We saw a wide range of events culminating with the closing ceremonies. When we were not attending events we would hang out at the Olympic park meeting and interacting with people from all over the world.  I enjoyed meeting and talking with people. Showing no fear. 

One of our favorited places to hang out was the practice track in behind Olympic stadium. It was open to the public. You could sit in the bleachers and watch atheletes practice. One day we sat and watched. To my right was this young muscular black man putting on his running shoes. I walked over to him and asked him what event he was practicing for. He said 400 metre hurdles. I asked what country he was competing for, he said I am Edwin Moses from the USA. Edwin Moses who would only go on to be the greatest hurdler in the world at the time. I regret not getting an autograph. The few minutes of conversation will linger in my memory forever. 

Today, we would not be able to get that close to atheletes without tons of security. We were there the night Nadia Comeneci recorded the first perfect score in gymnastics. We were there the final night of swimming when Canadan female swimmers upset the favorite American women to win silver and bronze. The crowd went ballistic. The American swimmers who won medals would toss mini footballs into the crowd. 

We saw the men's semi final basketball match between Canada and USA. The Canadians got beaten badly. We saw the women's gold medal match. I can't remember who was playing, What I do remember was seeing not meeting Wilt Chamberlain in the crowd.

We watched the men's gold medal volleyball Match between Soviet Union and Poland. The Soviets were up 2 sets to none and up 11-4 in the third game, seemingly cruising to victory. Poland roared back to win in 5 sets. The game ended at 1:30 in the morning.  I didn't know a lot about volleyball, however, sat beside an American who was coaching the national team of Kenya. He taught me over the course of the game all about volleyball and Africa. This game is considered the greatest volleyball match of all time.

We saw lots of track and field and soccer. Some of the atheletes we saw were the great Finnish long distance runner Lasse Viren who after winning the 5,000 and 10,000 meters race ran his first marathon and finished 5th. Just ahead of the best finish by a Canadian in the marathon Jerome Drayton who was 6th.

The great Cuban runner Alberto Juantareno the only person to complete the 200 meter and 400 meter double in Olympic history. The silver medalist in these races was a Belgian runner Ivo Van Damme who was tragically killed in a car accident a few months after the Olympics. 

We saw Greg Joy upset the brash Dwight Stones to win silver in the high jump. Saw Bruce/Catlyn Jenner win the decathlon. 

We saw the closing ceremonies. In one segment they had nuns from a convent in Montreal form the Olympic Rings. The ring right in front of us was just closing when a young man jumped out of the stands gained access to the ring and took of his clothes and streaked around inside the circle to the shocked looks of the nuns. After all it was the 70's and streakers were prevalent. 

Two wonderful weeks, meeting and seeing outstanding atheletes and people. I wanted to still be that innocent young 12 year old who would not be afraid to talk to people. Sadly, a few short years later my life would be shaped in a different direction and that age of innocence would be gone forever.  

Every summer Olympics I relive the summer of 1976.

Revelations

Last week I was interviewed for a campaign video. A company will use this video to entice their employees to donate money for the local United Way campaign in conjunction with the local CMHA chapter.

I shared my story, my personal story on dealing and living with depression.  Although formally diagnosed in 2010, I have dealing with depression since I was 15.

At this age my parents separated. My father left and I lived with my mother. I love my mother dearly, however, she had no capacity to raise a teenager. She did her best, it wasn't what I needed and soon found myself being co-dependent on her as she was on me. It was not healthy. I did not see it.

I was too wrapped up in my little world of being shy and introverted and withdrawn. While at the same time I was also angry, irritable, frustrated and mad at the world. I could explode with outbursts at any time. Thank god they were verbal not physical outbursts. The words could be damaging and inappropriate.

Most of my anger was directed at my father for leaving the family. I bought into what my family was saying about him. The interactions I had with my father at this time were strained and forced. He was trying and I wasn't. It would be a couple of years until I got through the BULLSHIT.

In my early 20's I was presented with a great opportunity and made the most of it. The opportunity was to be the student manager for the University Men's basketball team. I grew up and matured and learned about myself. I came away from that experience with a lifetime of memories and lifelong friendships.

In my first year I almost blew it because I was trying to hard to impress. I was a people pleaser. Several times my emotions would get the better of me and I would lash out at my teammates for no reason.

They were my saving grace. They were a few years older than me and I learned valuable life lessons. They said just be myself, we like you when you are. On a road trip, after a tough loss I shared my story. They were supportive and offered advice on how to improve my relations with my father .

I took heed and after a short period of time my father and I found common ground in sports, history, current events and crossword puzzles. It took a few years, I did repair my relationship with my father.

A Life Well Lived

Eight years ago today my best friend Mike passed away after a courageous two and a half year battle with cancer.

It was a Friday morning just after 9:00 am when I got the call. I knew right away. I sat in my office as tears rolled down my face. After composing myself I went for a walk around the block and reminisced.

The last time I saw Mike was the week before at the local folk festival. He was sitting at the picnic table in the shade with purple and pink dyed hair, a portable oxygen tank at his side. As the music waffled in the background, Mike told me he had 3-6 months to live. My final words to him were bless you and thank you Mike.

I walked away knowing this was the last time I would see my best friend.

We met in university as members of the men's basketball team. I was the student manager he was the athletic trainer. Friends in the truest form for the next 25 years. He accepted me for who I was. We talked and shared everything and even tried to solve the world's problems. He shared the same passion for sports, current events and history that I did.

We would do anything for each other, one night he called me at 3:00 am, he got sick at work and needed a ride home. Without hesitation I picked him up and drove him home.

After many years of trying he finally got me to volunteer at the folk fest with him. Damm near fell off his chair at the bar when I said yes.

Mike loved a challenge and in 2003 accepted the challenge to climb the second highest mountain in the world. Conquer the mountain he did. He was my hero, my rock. He knew when I was feeling depressed and low. He always had the right words to say, things to do to cheer me up.

In 2005 when they found a tumour, he saw it as another challenge to conquer. He embraced it and was determined to beat the cancer. We went on our yearly football road trip. He savoured the experience and company each time. Our talks were deeper and more spiritual in nature. We cherished every moment.

I miss him and when he passed I was sad and full of joy at the same time for being  a true friend in his life. I think about Mike all the time and know that you are watching over me. I will hoist a beer for you.

Memories of my Father Part 2

Today is July 16, 2016, six years ago I had my first date with a great lady. Six years later we are stronger and more in love with each other.

My father once told me to take risks, because life is about choices and risks.

I did take a risk and asked Shelley out. As most first dates go you share stories about family, career, hobbies, interests etc, etc. After I dropped Shelley off at home I evaluated the date and decided I would take that risk again and several days later made arrangements for date two.

I had the pleasure and honour of writing my father's obituary. About 1:00 in the morning July 16, 2005 I sat down with pen and paper in one hand and a glass of single malt in the other. My dad loved his scotch. He had a strong partner, my brothers had strong personalities. I had a strong relationship with my father and his obit would be my legacy to him.

My father was a humble man of many achievements, first and foremost he was a survivor. His birth mother died when he was 4 and he went to live in Prague with his grandparents. The time was 1938, a turbulent time indeed. Hitler's army was marching towards Prague.

With the help of many people including the British Red Cross, my father at the age of 9 was granted safe passage to England so he could have a better life.

This experience defined him. He was complicated, complex, distant, aloof, brilliant. His formative years were spent in rural England. He excelled in sports soccer, cricket and bridge and was an exceptional student.

He attended Oxford and the London School of Economics for his doctorate. It was no surprise that his field of expertise was European history considering he lived it. He read, wrote and spoke German which led to his first job translating captured German war documents.

My father was destined to be an academic. When you are just starting out you go wherever you get a job which meant England where my brothers arrived, to Australia where I appeared on the scene, back to England, to the United States and finally Canada. Winnipeg to be exact.

My relationship with my father can be defined in three parts. From early years to age 15, he was my hero, I worshipped and idolized him. He supported me when I played soccer and speed skated, spending many a cold night timing me at the outdoor oval.

From age 15 to early 20's, I resented my father was angry, confused and blamed him for my parents separation. Months would go by without me seeing him and even our phone conversations were frigid and only discussed surfaced material and pleasantaries. He was making every effort to gain my approval of him. I was not receptive.

In university the healing started. I took an interest in history and we found common ground. We would talk history which led to current events, sports and monthly lunches together. I was maturing and my father was becoming a regular fixture in my life.

When he and his partner would travel, I would stay at their house. Apart from over watering plants it was the best of both worlds. I had my space because I was still at home with my mother.

As I said earlier my father encouraged me to take risks. I took a huge risk by forgiving him and recreating a relationship with my father that continued to blossom until the day he died and even beyond his death.

Memories of my Father Part 1

It was 11 years ago today that my father died. Friday July 15. 2005. A surreal day if there ever was one.

I received the call approx 11:00 a from my dad's partner Stella, she said she couldn't wake my father.

I had just returned to my former job 2 weeks prior and had just returned from picking my mom up from the hospital earlier in the morning.

I flew out of the office saying I had a family emergency. As I drove to the house, several thoughts rushed through my mind, was this for real and if it was, the first dead body I ever see is my father's. I phoned my brother and told him I think this is real.

As I turned left onto his street, I saw from 4 blocks away red flashing lights. Tears started rolling down my face. I parked in front of the house, sat in my car for several minutes,  felt like hours, gaining my composure.

When I entered the house, Stella gave me a big hug and said he was in the bedroom. I started to walk down the hall to the bedroom, stopped halfway full of fear, a million thoughts running through my mind, nervous anticipation.

I came back to the living room where Stella was with the 2 two paramedics who couldn't have been more than early twenties.

I asked them to come with me. Flanked on either by them my head was staring at the carpeted floor silent and in deep thought. At the bedroom door, I looked in and my knees buckled ever so slightly.

There was my father sleeping peacefully except he would never wake up. He was in his side, one arm on top of his head the other by his side. I was convinced I saw his chest expand and relax. I gasped. The paramedics asked if I was okay, I said fine inside I was a wreck full of emotion. At that moment my phone rang. It was my brother asking what is happening, he was driving back to the city.

I walked back into the living room and comforted Stella with another big hug. The young paramedics took their leave to be replaced by 2 city police officers. It would be several hours until the medical examiner came to pronounce and remove the body.

I went and spent some quite time with my father and the police officers. I sat on the edge of the bed telling him how much I loved him and how much I would miss him. I moved my hand over his back and his arm.

As other people starting arriving I spent my telling the police officers all about my father. His life, his passions, his story and his contributions to mankind.

11 years later, I know you are around me every day. I feel your prescence, your energy, your strength. I am motivated and empowered by it.

RIde Don't Hide

This past weekend I volunteered at the local Rid Don't Hide event to create awareness and break down the stigma of mental health. u

RIde don't hide is he perfect title for this event. It could be riding, walking, running, hiking or any other form of activity. The key is to be active.

When I am feeling depressed, the last thing I want to do is be active and nvolved. I would rather be isolated, quiet and withdrawn because it is safe and comfortable. It is where I can beat myself up and wallow in self pity for weeks or months on end.

Thankfully since I was diagnosed, received counselling and started on medication I have been open and address my depression head on. The depressive moments are now for shorter periods of time.

I am not hiding anymore, I am open and aware of my depression by sharing my story.

A couple of months ago I shared my story with grade eleven students. The students were engaged and active, asking informative, thoughtful and intriguing questions. I left on an incredible high feeling empowered and grateful that the world will be in good hands with today's students. I wish we had education about mental health issues when I was school age. I was hoping to make a difference in someone's life, instead a difference was made in my life.

When I returned to my office, one of my colleagues asked me about my morning. I took a risk and told her about my story. We hadn't had the greatest professional relationship, so I was taking a big risk. And she took a risk back by sharing with how she is struggling with depression in a different way. Her daughter deals with extreme anxiety disorder.  Now we share a bond and are professional relationship has improved greatly and hope to build s personal friendship with her.

Ride Don't Hide

This is one example of sharing my story, others abound, kindred spirits are everywhere, waiting for someone to take a risk and share.

Back to the event, about 100 riders braved a windy, cold, rainy day including the cities mayor and ex football player and an Olympic silver medalist. The silver medalist passed her medal around and I took my picture with the medal draped around my neck.

 Since then I have looked at the picture many times and have  a hard believing it is actually me. The person in this picture has an amazing smile. Anyone looking at this picture would never guess that I had been struggling to smile for decades.

You Can Wrte Your Destiny

 The other day I gave my partner a romantic passionate kiss and she told me I love you very much. My response was I know, I love myself very much.

This was quite a revelation for myself, because for the longest time I didn't like or love myself.

A year ago in January I fell on the ice and broke my right ankle and surgery was required. After a couple of weeks with a cast and crutches I wanted to go back to work. LIttle did I know it would be 8 weeks off work and another 5 weeks on modified duties before back to work full time.

It was a pretty severe injury, however, I keep on telling myself it could have been worse. It could have been worse.

Looking back on it, it was a positive experience, I had an excellent WCB case worker who eased my navigation through the system.

I decided to make my recovery public by reporting on it every day via social meda. Each day whether it was good, bad or ugly it was chronicled. I had many comments from all my friends and one day when I didn't post friends would comment about that.

There were only 2 real ugly days when I hit the wall and was very low. Both days within an hour of posting friends and family called offering support. The first call was Larry my funky lawyer.

A couple of weeks ago I went for a post surgery follow up with WCB. My ankle has completely healed except for the permanent scar and some changes in range of motion.

I keep on telling myself it could have been worse. It could have been worse because of the way I  dealt with it. The old Andrew would have wallowed in self pity and asked myself why me. Instead I accepted and embraced it like I am doing with my life now.

It's not what happens to you, it is what you do about it.

Dawn of a new era

The other day a picture popped up on my Facebook wall, a memory from six years ago. I am wearing a tuxedo at a formal affair. I thought I looked amazing, good and confident.

What struck me the instant I saw that picture was Ugh. I looked that way. That way was smug, arrogant and no smile.

I had nothing to be smug or arrogant about. In fact, I was at the opposite end of the spectrum. Behind that smug and arrogant look was a man who was appearing to be something he wasn't.

I was putting up a brave front, appearing to be self confident and positive when I wasn't. After seeing that picture, cameras do not lie and I didn't like what I was projecting.

This picture was taken within a year of being diagnosed with depression. I never thought being diagnosed with a mental health issue would have such a positive effect on my life.

Let me explain, my partner and I were out for a fall walk when she stopped mid-stride and said " I think you have low grade depression"

"What is it " I responded. She told me. When we got home I looked up the info and the signs and symptoms were staring back at me in black and white.

The light switch had been turned on and I saw what I was dealing with. Several weeks later I had my diagnosis confirmed by my doctor.