Why I Am Looking Forward To Being A Father

My memory is bad. I have virtually no memory earlier than the age of 11. The little pieces that I do have come in the forms of stories or the memories are attached to the photographs of that day. There are a couple of exceptions to my memory loss and most have to do with my Dad and hockey and I am not really sure one of these stories ever happened. I don't know why but they make me want to be a Dad myself.

I grew up playing hockey. I liked to think that I was competitive, a future NHL star but in reality I couldn't stop. Really. I was unable to skate down the ice and turn my feet creating enough friction to slow my momentum before ramming into the boards at the end of the ice. I blame the fact that I couldn't stop on my father buying me Micron Mascot plastic moulded hockey skates. One day my dad took me to the rink to learn how to stop. No practice with the team. No friends. Just a dad and his son learning how to stop. That is being a dad

I remember another time when my slap and wrist shot needed some help. The other kids were growing muscle and were learning how to use them. I was a bean pole and had trouble lifting the puck off the ice. Dad took me down to the church basement and took the time to teach me how to shoot the puck properly. I want to teach my kids the same thing but until then I have to practice my perfected slap shot with my dog who loves to retrieve everything I shoot.

He even went so far as to build a rink in the back yard. How Canadian can you get? During one particularly fun day out back I had a friend skate over my face and cut the inside of my mouth. Blood was everywhere and my dad came skating over in his circa 1970's tube skates. He picked me up and was helping me inside. I remember thinking to myself that it was funny that he was trying to catch all of my blood in his leather glove. Now I look back at the same story and realize that he wasn't trying to save my blood or that it was even serving a purpose. He was catching my blood because I was his son. No other reason.

What is funny is that I don't think a dad will ever know which moments will mean the most to the child, the same way I don't know which moments meant the most to my father.