The Parallel Parliament

Glen Pearson

Posts tagged “fatherhood

Century Thoughts

Posted on December 16, 2016

MEMORIES OF HIM DROP FROM THE SKIES like snowflakes lightly touching the ground. On December 15th, 1916, a rather frail baby was born in a home in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan – an arrival that, in part at least, led to my own journey. Lloyd Durward Pearson was my father, and that obscure birth 100 years ago today launched him into an era of seismic happenings. He was born in the middle of the First World War (1914–1918), and looking back on it now I realize that he never really got the chance to enjoy a comfortable youth. Like millions of his generation, he entered adolescence on the heels of a world conflict that cost 17 million lives and a further 20 million wounded only to face…

More Than DNA

Posted on June 15, 2014

“THE HEART OF A FATHER IS THE MASTERPIECE OF NATURE.” Really? Antoine Francois wrote that a long time ago, but I sense I have fallen far short of that kind of nobility of soul. Because fathers never stop learning, it is almost impossible to arrive at anything near a “masterpiece”. Fatherhood itself is a series of rites of passage – births, first days of school, graduation, marriages, grandkids – which, no matter how many times they are experienced, leaves one with the feeling that we never get it quite right. Most people are cursed with the idea that if only they could acquire something externally that they would be better people. Extra money, a better job, more patience or kindness, a sense of purpose –…

Confessions of a Hockey Widower

Posted on May 8, 2013

According to the Urban Dictionary, a “hockey widow” is “a woman who is married to a man who is so obsessively involved with hockey that it keeps him away from home.”  That’s me, except technically I’m defined as a “hockey widower.”  And I’ve got issues.  This time of year, I feel I’m in a state of permanent grief. It started years ago, not too long after we were married, when Jane said, “Glen, you okay if I join a pick-up league and play hockey on Friday afternoons?”  Seemed okay to me.  When she was in school she played hockey instead of figure skating.  By the time we were married she could skate rings around me, so it kind of made sense.  And I wanted…

A Dance For the Generations

Posted on September 14, 2012

Today’s the big day, as I head in shortly for the six-hour operation to have half of my stomach removed. It could have happened a couple of weeks ago except that an issue of vital concern preempted it – the wedding of my daughter Kimberly. I’d asked the surgeons if we could postpone the procedure so that I could be there for the big day. They graciously relented and it became one of the great events of my life. In so many ways it’s doubtful that a father ever stands as tall in accomplishment as the occasion when he walks his daughter down the aisle. There’s simply little else to compare with that moment. She was radiant, excited, and absolutely wanting to get on…

  

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