It was the winter of either 1979 or 1980. I was obsessed with skating after watching Dorothy Hamil skate in the winter Olympics. I wanted to skate 24-7. Well I was a little bit too young to go down to the rink by myself and my parents were busy most evenings with things kids don't get. Things like paying bills, making supper, arranging playdates for the younger sibling, downtime from work. They ran us around 3 nights a week already with skating, dance and brownies so the 2 nights they had free - they actually wanted to have something still not quite heard of, especially for mom's in the late 70's ..."me time".But wait it was all about me wasn't it?
Anyways, my Dad has always encouraged us to do whatever it is we dream of doing and he always tried to give us the tools to do so. He was a busy man with a busy Accounting practice and in the winter he adjusted his hours to work at his peak times - noon to about 3am from January to April. He was home for supper for about 2 hours but then gone again after a quick goodnight kiss and a tuck into bed. But I guess I must have really inspired him or pestered him to the point of sanity because one night not long after we were back to school in January he went out to the front of our driveway and started shovelling the unused summer side. My sister and I dragged on our snowsuits to go out and help but more so watch in fascination as he marked off a perfect 20 foot rectangle with sticks and string.
What are you doing Daddy?
You'll see.
He smoothed out the bottom surface and told us to stay out of the square. It was getting pretty cold and his engineering prowes although neat was getting boring so we went inside and pestered Mom for Hot chocolate. I went off to bed thinking not of the rectangle but probably something a little more to my speed - like who was the better buddy Skipper or Gilligan?
The next morning, heading off to school I stopped short at the end of the driveway. The Rectangle had transformed into a glistening slab of thin ice. I was excited. I remember rushing home from school and digging out my skates only to be stopped by my mom. Yes it was going to be a skating rink but it was going to take some time to build up the ice so it would be safe to use. Bummer.
I can only guess that when my Dad got home from work that night he brought out pail after pail of hot water and threw it across his surface. The man is a saint.
Well I waited.... and waited... and waited. Finally a week later Dad announced that the ice was very solid and smooth and it would be safe to use. I ran to get dressed and put on my skates. I clomped down the driveway and stepped on to the rink for my first glide.
It was utter bliss. Smooth as marble. There was barely a bump or ripple. I skated until my cheeks were ruddy red and I couldn't feel my nose - then I still had to be dragged in by my Mom.
That winter our house was the hub of skating activity. No hockey was allowed because there was little ones on the ice and Dad didn't want too much maintenance on the rink but we had a blast. I was sad to see it melt away in the spring.
He kept this up for 3 more years until I was a teenager and only interested in closing my door and listening to music while talking on the phone. I think he was probably a little bit sad but also a little bit relieved that the momentous chore he had undertaken to please me had moved on.
The picture above inspired this memory. I looked at the rink that had been in some old catalogue and thought it was nothing compared to what I had received. My dad's diligence, love and time. It might not have been the pure quality time because of his crazy winter hours but it was time given with the intent of love.
I know this wasn't my usual sarcastic snip at something today but I can work on that. :)
Posts
