Archived Thoughts for 06/18/06

Thoughts of a Rural Woman

Letting your kids discover you
Elliott Katz
Author of
Being the Strong Man A Woman Wants:
Timeless wisdom on being a man

I loved your editorial Discovering Your Parents. It's right on. As parents, we shouldn't wait until we're 82 to tell our kids about our lives. Telling your children about the life experiences that shaped you can help bring you closer & if they're girls, enhance the father-daughter bond.

When my father died several years ago at the age of 92, I was going through a divorce involving a custody dispute over my daughters. Like many fathers in this situation, I feared losing these precious relationships. In a divorce or in intact families, for that matter it's easy for a father to be relegated to the role of provider of money & little else. I had already observed that when money is all kids get from their father, these kids seem to resent their fathers the most.

My father wasn't rich financially, but I didn't miss anything he didn't buy me. I wished I'd spent more time talking with him & learning about his own life. I realized that what I missed most about my own father was what I wanted to give to my daughters.

My father lost his parents when he was young: his father died in the Great Flu Epidemic of 1919, when my Dad was 12. Then when he was 16, his mother died. At age 22, he set sail from the port city of Danzig (now called Gdansk) in Poland on board the LITHUANIA(Baltic American Line). He debarked in Halifax, Nova Scotia on September 29, 1929 -- one month before the Depression hit. He boarded a train that same day for Montreal.

As a furrier, my Dad made fur coats from the beaver skins he would buy at the Hudson Bay Company auctions -- the same Hudson Bay Company I learned about in my Canadian history classes. Trappers from the north would sell the skins from the animals they'd been trapping all winter long at the HBC outposts which would ship them to the auction house in Montreal.

As a child, I went with him a few times to those auctions in a building on Dorchester Boulevard (renamed Rene Levesque Boulevard) in downtown. It was right near Mayor Street which was the area where the fur coat manufacturers were concentrated. The raw beaver skins were piled in lots on tables. My father would examine them & note how much he thought they were worth when it came to bid. I remember I was able to tell when the auctioneer was running up the bids -- pretending there were higher bids when there actually weren't any -- because he'd speak even faster than usual, & that was fast! Beaver skin has long stiff hair over short softer ones. After the skins were bought they went through a dressing process where that long hair was removed. My father was pretty well known at the auctions as he'd been going there many years.

My Dad was introduced to my mother through a mutual friend in 1944 & they got married in 1945. She was born in the US & her parents were from Russia. She is alive & well.

My Dad spoke English without an accent. He also spoke Yiddish. He didn't speak Polish. He worked hard at his own business & supported my mother & four children. I wished I'd asked him how he overcame the challenges he faced. I wished he'd taught me more of the wisdom he learned.

I started sharing stories with my daughters about my own life & experiences. I told them about how my dreams became goals that I achieved, some are still works in progress while others are forgotten or been replaced with immediate needs. I taught them the lessons I'm still learning, the hard way, as I grow at mid-life lessons about taking responsibility, about not expecting life to always be smooth, because it rarely is, & about teaching myself to see challenges as opportunities. I hoped it would give them a head start in their own learning about life.

I had wondered if they would actually be interested. Once we started, I was thrilled that they loved hearing these stories. They wanted to know about me, just as I had wanted to know about my Dad.

An unexpected result: the more I shared my life lessons with my daughters, the more it pushed me to grow as a father. I had to be a role model of what I was trying to teach. For example, I told them that taking responsibility means stepping forward to handle situations & not always leaving it to others to solve the problems. This means that as a father, I have to know what's going on & step forward when the situation requires it. A father can't always say, “It's up to your mother.”

These talks brought us closer. My daughters started telling me about the events in their lives & asked for my advice. I was moved when my younger daughter, now a teenager, told me that she'd started a section in her notebook called “Lessons from Dad.” I thought about my own father -- he would have been proud.

Whether you're a married or single dad, you can help have a closer relationship with your children by telling them about the experiences that shaped your life. If you're a mother, encourage your husband. & if you wish your father would talk more to you about his own life, & you're lucky to still have him, ask him & listen.

The things you buy for your children may last a few months or years. What you teach them can last a lifetime.

Rebecca the Editor says: to you all, dear Fathers, thank you
Let us shower you with hugs & kisses
& gifts you don't need...even another tie!
In thanks for the sparkle in your eyes
& your big, strong arms that hold up the skies
for your great big grins & rumbling yawns
for making Mom happy & keeping us safe
for being a good man & showing us the way
Tell me a story about you... Dear Daddy.

Elliott Katz
2006©Elliott Katz