My Dad and I are close.  The baby of the family, I was always known for being very affectionate.  I still go up to him and stroke his face or kiss him on the cheek.

My Dad moved to Toronto from Greece with pennies in his pocket.  The typical immigrant story: didn’t know the language, didn’t know anybody, didn’t have any money.

He was known as “The Singing Bartender” for 30 years.  Karaoke singer and psychiatrist too.  He’s seen it all, met all walks of life and heard all kinds of stories.  To this day, my Dad is a social butterfly and always the life of the party.  And he can sing a mean “New York, New York”.

I was very attached to my father because for a good part of my early childhood, he took care of me and my siblings while my mom worked nights.  He’d feed us dinner, bathe us, read bedtime stories and tucked us in.  I’d wake up at night because of a nightmare and call out his name.  My mother told me later how much it bothered her that I’d never call out for her.

Just a high school degree but my dad is self-taught.  Finances, news, politics – he knows it all.  Maybe too much for his own good.  He’s quite the handyman too; he can fix anything and even build a basement.

My dad was the main provider for our family but he was also a hands-on dad. He was NOT the typical old-fashioned Meditteranean Dad.  He was quite modern for that time.

Although we feared him a bit, he was always gentle with us.  He played with us, drove us around to piano and ballet lessons, swimming and Greek school.

Today, he is a grandfather of eight kids.  My boys have such a special bond with “Pappou”.  Always smiling, he still has the energy of a 20-year-old when he plays with them.  My boys go crazy for him and of course, I know exactly why they love him so much.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad!