I miss my dad.
In the photo above, he's in his mid-20's. Pretty darn handsome, if I do say so myself. It runs in the family too!
I think it's safe to say that my life has been marked by his absence, because I was all of 11 years old when my parents separated. But I am fortunate to have many good memories: the "railroad tycoon" at Monopoly; climbing through the window into the courtyard at Kapuskasing District High School to choose a Christmas tree; going fishing at the spot across from the paper mill in the evenings; ice fishing with my grandfather and uncles; the sound of his voice urging me on to the finish line at swim meets. He spoke several languages fluently, and I am told that the greatest treasures in his life were me and my sister, Melanie.
Studies show that it is more difficult to give up cigarettes than heroin. Even after his first stroke and diagnosis of advanced throat cancer, daddy couldn't stop. The paralysis of his left side after the second stroke did that for him. The best thing, of course, is not to start. The second best is to do everything you can to stop.
If you can't do it for yourself, do it for the people you love.
Je t'aime toujours, papa.