How many men wonder on Father’s Day “How the heck did I get here?”?
I often wonder about my Father’s choice, his decision to marry and start a family.
Imagine the excitement for a small town Ontario boy during the Second World War, travelling hundreds of miles to Quebec with the anticipation of being shipped overseas.
Imagine the disappointment because instead of confirming you can join your bachelor boot camp comrades, the French doctor cancels your marching papers due to a genetically weak leg joint, and orders you to stay in Canada.
Instead of joining the Allies in the war against evil forces, your defences are shattered during leave in Quebec City when you encounter the soft, cool cheeks and unintelligible chatter of a pretty French girl.
Researching, #iamwriting an account of blond, blue-eyed Orange Ontarian soldier boy James meeting Quebec Catholic girl Simonne during WWII.
— Theresa Jamone (@tjamone) May 11, 2014
Was it the excitement and romance of the war years that encouraged these two to keep in touch via handwritten letters after he returned to Orange Anglo Ontario? Was it love or biological forces that made this young man secretly complete Catechism so that his French Catholic sweetheart would finally accept his proposal of marriage?
I do know that my Dad was a hardworking carpenter and husband who kept his commitment to his sweet, faithful wife and the eleven children they eventually produced.
Eleven children?! Sh*t! Can you imagine raising that many kids these days? Although it was a financial and emotional struggle, they managed. Some of my older siblings have theories about the special occasions of when we were conceived.
Mom and Dad stuck it out, for better or for worse for over 40 years. As far as I remember, Dad was a good Father who kept his chosen faith and commitment to his family. He was also a good role model, fishing buddy and mentor for some of the grubby neighbourhood boys.
With love and great respect. Thanks, Dad.
Theresa A. Jamone
Thanks for reading this far.