Sometimes "it" just needs to be said. This is one of those times.
My dad, Lawson Archibald Allison, was born in Weston, Ontario, to Fanny and Archie Allison, on August 28, 1921. He was raised as an "only child" and was loved by many aunties and uncles. This did not spoil him as one might expect. Dad worked as soon as he was able, and his jobs were numerous and varied. He especially remembers, with most affection, jerking sodas at the corner drug store.
At an age when the teens of today are hanging out in malls and looking for trouble, dad enlisted, and spent his youth in the service of his country. He wanted his loved ones to grow up in a world that was safer and kinder than what he was seeing at the time. Many years were spent away from his family but this is a time he seldom speaks about.
After the war, dad studied to become a teacher and went on to teach English Literature in High School. Many of his students still keep in touch after all these years, and some have gone on to become accomplished writers.
My dad did not venture far from home when he chose his lifelong partner, and he and mom raised my brother and I ensuring that we we always felt safe and cherished. I can honestly say that we never wanted for a thing. How fortunate we were to have parents that made our happiness and welfare a priority.
Our teenage years were troubling at times, as we grew up in the 60's. and "testing the waters" and challenging our parents' values was a privilege we owned. We claimed that privilege because we lived in a country that was free, and it was free as a result of the efforts of young men like dad... many of whom never came home.
Over the past few years I have had the privilege of living close to my dad in the same small town. We have shared road trips, Sunday dinners and "the best chocolate donut in the whole world!".
Too often we wait to publish a post such as this until after the person that we have loved and respected has departed this world. We need to change that practice, and tell the ones we love, that we do...now...while we know that they hear us.
So, dad... one more time.....thank you for all that you have done, and for all that you continue to do. I love you.
poppy on tricycle