My Dad: My Greatest Influence
As published in the Spiritual Niagara Newsletter - March, 2015
Lightworker's Way: Column 53
http://spiritualniagara.ca/newsletter/2015/03.pdf
This month’s column I would like to dedicate to my father, Anthony Joseph Whelan, a proud Irishman, fittingly born March 17, 1943 – St. Patrick’s Day, delivered by his father during a blizzard in the same house he was then raised in and returned to after my grandparents had both passed on and he and Mom separated. He lived there for years until he could no longer, as the house, built by Grandpa who was a plumber, began to fall down around Dad. The house was torn down a couple years ago. I’m sure the plumbing had still been intact.
I have had the privilege of watching this man all my life; watching him make unique life choices and having fun playing out these choices. "Life is an adventure," he would often say, and practiced what he preached. I witnessed him work a 9-5, Monday to Friday, in suit and tie at the Credit Bureau for 10 years while coming home to tend to his dream, a 1 acre hobby farm. I was an observer of his change in employment to Loans Officer first of a Royal Bank, then after my parents divorced of a credit union. I actually found it fascinating as a teenager, that as a result of a dare one night, Dad began having a blast when the weekends came as an exotic dancer in the states. "It’s quite respectful, Chris. In the states, we keep our g-strings on." He continued with this theme as a nude model for the Brock University art classes.
Expressing even another side of himself, Dad always had a passion for our family tree and the history surrounding it so it wasn’t surprising when he plunged himself into the role as one of the "go-to experts" in the Niagara Region for genealogical inquiries and partnering for projects. He had made it a life mission to gather binders and files, boxes and bags of information on local history, our ancestors and the people surrounding them. I have newspaper clippings of the days he fought a local town to have a cemetery name returned to our ancestral name. The fight was lost but nevertheless, fought hard.
The next natural flow was to get involved in talk radio. Dad had an impressive talk show on CFBU, the Brock radio station in St. Catharines, for 18 years. His show was called Heritage Niagara. He had many guests on over the years including politicians, inventors and other prominent figures in our community. One evening I joined him on the air and he had a ball!
Through all of this, Dad had first developed depression in the early 80’s, followed by a diagnosis of fibromyalgia several years later. Very few people ever knew how much he was in pain both emotionally and physically. This past June, after almost a year of tests and waiting, we received the heartbreaking news. The reason why Dad had suddenly started losing strength in his legs and hips was due to ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease). It was a long struggle to keep him at home and as independent as possible for as long as we did but it was worth it. He is now in long term care in Port Colborne, in a wheelchair and what is the most anguishing is that he can no longer speak. Dad was a great speaker; a real natural teacher and storyteller. I spent my whole life listening to his stories; stories about life and stories about our family history.
While going through, and packing up all of Dad’s belonging this winter, I came across something I had made him for his birthday years ago. Homemade gifts are valued in our family, instilled by Dad. I had found a piece of birch bark on the ground during one of my hikes in the Short Hills (I continued the hikes in my adult years). I brought it home, glued a couple of sketched pictures of my Dad and I on it – one of him holding me as a baby and one as he’s about to walk me down the path during my wedding, then wrote words and phrases all over the bark that represented some of the life lessons and messages Dad has taught me over the years. To write about all of them now would definitely take me well over my allotted word count for this column space so I’ll share just a couple of my favourite and most entertaining.
If you get caught, I don’t know you
During the summer of the year I was 8, I had eaten all the pears in both of our 2 pear trees. I headed for the small orchard across the street. As I was just reaching the top of the fence between the ditch and the orchard, Dad drove up, just getting home from work. "What are you doing?" he asked calmly about my intentions of trespassing. I explained how we ran out of pears and I was hungry. What he said next both shocked me and taught me a valuable lesson. "Ok. But if you get caught (implying by the police), I don’t know you." And he just as calmly turned into the driveway.
And the lesson? I knew from that moment on, if I ever chose to get into trouble, I’d better be prepared to be responsible for, and handle the consequences.
It is good to be a black sheep
Me, "Dad, you are so eccentric."
Dad, "No Chris, eccentric people have lots of money. I don’t have lots of money. I’m just weird."
The lesson? To be the black sheep, or eccentric or weird, meant to be unique. And that is good. There was no need to be like everyone else.
Effingham and Camping
My childhood was filled with hikes in the Short Hills and camping throughout Southern Ontario every weekend during the summer. I now have a huge appreciation and passion for nature and the basics. My survival and problem-solving skills are pretty heightened as well.
Others that I had printed on the bark:
You always have choice
Life is a series of tests
It’s all in your head
Dream
Feel the music
Create
Imagine
It’s disheartening to know that, while my father has had quite a fascinating life that could have left him armed with so many stories to entertain people where he now resides, he has lost his ability to tell these stories. So, I’m working on a scrapbook that will have many pictures, newspaper clippings and detailed captions to tell his stories. All he will have to do is point to a specific page or picture, and smile proudly, at times with a little giggle.
Happy Birthday Dad! I love you!! You have been the greatest influence in my life and I will forever be grateful. You are my hero.
During the summer of the year I was 8, I had eaten all the pears in both of our 2 pear trees. I headed for the small orchard across the street. As I was just reaching the top of the fence between the ditch and the orchard, Dad drove up, just getting home from work. "What are you doing?" he asked calmly about my intentions of trespassing. I explained how we ran out of pears and I was hungry. What he said next both shocked me and taught me a valuable lesson. "Ok. But if you get caught (implying by the police), I don’t know you." And he just as calmly turned into the driveway.
And the lesson? I knew from that moment on, if I ever chose to get into trouble, I’d better be prepared to be responsible for, and handle the consequences.
It is good to be a black sheep
Me, "Dad, you are so eccentric."
Dad, "No Chris, eccentric people have lots of money. I don’t have lots of money. I’m just weird."
The lesson? To be the black sheep, or eccentric or weird, meant to be unique. And that is good. There was no need to be like everyone else.
Effingham and Camping
My childhood was filled with hikes in the Short Hills and camping throughout Southern Ontario every weekend during the summer. I now have a huge appreciation and passion for nature and the basics. My survival and problem-solving skills are pretty heightened as well.
Others that I had printed on the bark:
You always have choice
Life is a series of tests
It’s all in your head
Dream
Feel the music
Create
Imagine
It’s disheartening to know that, while my father has had quite a fascinating life that could have left him armed with so many stories to entertain people where he now resides, he has lost his ability to tell these stories. So, I’m working on a scrapbook that will have many pictures, newspaper clippings and detailed captions to tell his stories. All he will have to do is point to a specific page or picture, and smile proudly, at times with a little giggle.
Happy Birthday Dad! I love you!! You have been the greatest influence in my life and I will forever be grateful. You are my hero.