Hello, on behalf of my mom (Olga), sister (Janet), my husband (Ross) and sons (Rob and Ryan) I’d like to thank you all for coming today to collectively remember my father and say our final goodbyes.
To our Slovenian friends: “hvala za vase prijateljstvo, saj ste bili res nasa druzina ze dolgo let” (thanks for your friendship, you have been real family to us for many years). I would also like to thank Amal, his caregiver for the last 3 years, who treated him with such warmth and kindness, and whom he called sweetheart.
Since it’s impossible to summarize a lifetime that spanned 94 years, I just wanted to share a few things that I’ve been thinking about these last few days.
On the surface my dad was a very ordinary guy, and yet he’s had some amazing experiences and accomplishments. For instance, he only had about 3 years of primary schooling, if that, yet he somehow managed to qualify as an airplane mechanic during his time in the army. When he initially tried to escape from behind the Iron Curtain that was Yugoslavia, he was captured and imprisoned. He never spoke much about that experience, yet he eventually made it to Canada via a stint in Paris. That takes a strong will and perseverance, that I don’t know I would have had.
Dad was totally a do-it-yourself type and loved to work with his hands. There weren’t many things that he couldn’t make or fix, be it home made wine, a cement walkway and steps, or even a raccoon trap for the pests that kept raiding his backyard grapevine (note: it was a live trap and he released them in the wild, or maybe the park, not exactly sure) and his co-workers and neighbours often looked to him for handyman advice…and he was never shy about sharing that advice either.
Janet and I often joke that he had a strong engineering bent and the things he made were always sturdy and functional but would not score high in terms of aesthetics. When I asked him to make a clothesline for my basement laundry room, the result was an elaborate array of ropes and the brackets which were so sturdy that my fully grown sons could do chin up exercises on them. I once commented that I needed a good paring knife…so my dad made me one – who does that!? Instead of going to Canadian Tire to buy a knife, he took one of my steak knives that had a comfortable handle and honed it down to a perfect paring knife that I’ve been using virtually every day for 30 years…and for the rest of my life I will think of him every time I’m peeling potatoes.
Definitely the most touching memories I have of Dad are watching him in his role of grandfather to Rob and Ryan. When Rob was born, Ross and I were working full time and wondering what would happen when my maternity leave ended and I went back to work – my mom and dad without reservation offered to help with babysitting, and for over 2 years they drove every weekday from Vaughan to Mississauga to take care of him. And on days when my mom, who was dealing with health issues of her own, wasn’t up to it, dad would come on his own. And he was an amazing caregiver. This rough-around-the edges man was at his most gentle and generous when it came to his grandsons. He never had a problem with changing a dirty diaper; was always ready to dry a tear; and was endlessly patient, for instance, on neighbourhood walks when Rob, as a toddler, would stop at EVERY SINGLE parked car and read the licence plate out loud, encouraged and praised by his grandfather. For all he’s done for both Rob and Ryan over the years, the baby sitting, attending and cheering at hockey and soccer games, sharing his own life experience to deepen their understanding of a time and place far removed from their own experience growing up in Canada, Ross and I will be forever grateful.
And then there’s our family dog Rory. When we told dad we were thinking of getting a dog, his reaction was why would we do that, it’ll be a lot of work and our house will smell! Well, he changed his tune as soon as he met Rory and the two became fast friends for 13 years now. In recent years, when he visited us, it was Rory who was first in line for his attention, now that the grandkids were grown.
Towards the end of his life, Alzheimer’s took away a lot of who he was, but at the same time, it seemed to surface a more tender side of Dad. Janet and I probably heard terms of endearment such as sweetheart, “ma si pridna hci” (you’re a good daughter) and “zlata” (golden), and "I love you" - and mom was “kraljica od nase hise” (the queen of our house) - more times in the last 3 years than ever before, and for that we’re grateful and know in our hearts how much he loved and appreciated us.
It's been really touching and eye opening to hear others share their memories of our father, and that’s as it should be - we will all remember him in our own way, which, who knows, may in the end add up to 94 years of memories.
Tat - we love you and will remember you always.
