Late afternoon sun streams through the sawdust covered window, and I realize with quiet relief that I'm ready to say goodbye.
Whether we like it or not, whether we embrace the concept or wrestle it to the ground, death brings change, and change brings new growth and exciting things.
My Dad and brothers have had a partnership in a business for many years and with the passing of one of my brothers, it has become necessary to clear out and move on from what was part of our lives since before my siblings and I were born.
An onerous task, clearing out decades of things that were waiting to be: tools waiting to sharpen saws, wood to turn, planks to shape into a project, parts waiting to be installed into machines that are no longer being made, the old wired dial up phone, my Grandfather's planer and tools he used as a building inspector, and some machinery that was customized and configured with belts and pulleys devised by my father and forefathers to get the job done.
Surrounded by history and memories of my past and my family's past, I help sort through dust covered items that I can only hope will make someone else happy. I come across things that I remember and find things that bring forward a story I had never heard before and am so grateful to listen to. "The darker pair of skis were ones that I bought for Mom," Dad says. "I ordered the bindings and attached them to hers, but the lighter pair I made from scratch", telling me how he steamed the wood to curve the ski tips and made the poles too.
One last time, I look out through that dusty window and see the ballpark I once played on, the swings now gone, and the desire to stop time washes over me like the ocean tide.
There is solace in knowing I have captured what matters most and I'll find a way to celebrate and preserve it. I embrace what will be, and patiently wait for inspiration to flow into my brain.
It's an honor
Reflecting on Fathers and Forefathers
I count my blessings that I have a wonderful father.
Dad and his father before him were skilled craftsmen, builders, and entrepreneurial in spirit. They worked the land on my great-grandfather's farm in rural Ontario, Canada, and both established small businesses to earn an honest living and served their community with their skills.
Their beliefs, principles, and values helped shape who I am, influenced choices I've made and paths I've taken, and helped me recognize the things in my life that matter most.
My father is incredibly kind, faithful and insightful. He has abundant patience, evident when he didn't flinch after I, a rookie young driver, showed him the distorted bumper on our family car. He could fix most things and I'll forever remember him looking through his eyeglasses, calculating, pondering, with some tool or another in his hand ready to take on a task. He is dedicated to his faith, his wife, and family, and to his community. He's disciplined and regimented - evident in the way he takes good care of himself, diligently doing exercises after recovering from a broken hip, or being sure he eats a good breakfast every day - the same breakfast he has eaten for decades - raisin bran with milk, and toast with honey (I'm not kidding).
We all have a heritage, whether it be biological or adoptive, inherited or chosen. We're all shaped by experiences and relationships, they inform who we are and why we choose the paths we do.
Pause for a while this weekend, remember and celebrate the father who has helped shape your life.
Happy Father's Day, Dad, and thanks. I love you.
From left to right, my great-grandfather, Frederick Sr., my grandfather Frederick Jr. (when he and I were fishing together at 6 am one morning), and my Dad, Robert Otterman
gratitude + love = pure joy
THEIR EXPRESSION OF GRATITUDE IS LIKE NOTHING YOU COULD IMAGINE...
It was powerful and overwhelming, and it was a trip that will be forever etched in my heart.
In May 2015, I was honored to travel to the Netherlands with my father, then a 90-year-old WWII Canadian veteran. We were invited there to celebrate the 70th anniversary of their liberation, and I experienced firsthand what it is like to be immersed in the kindness and gratitude of the Dutch. They value their freedom, and they feel it is their duty to thank the people who fought for it.
In 1945, my father was witness to the horrific impact war had on the people of the Netherlands. He was there at the end of the war and also experienced the jubilation of their freedom. During his subsequent trips back, and also in 2015, seeing survivors and their families and children celebrating in the streets, brought him much joy and brought me to tears.
It also made me realize I needed to create a body of work inspired by those emotions.
The piece above is comprised of photographs I took on that trip in 2015. It is intended to recognize the continuation of generations and pay tribute to those children who did not survive the war. My father was keen to shake the hand of this young girl in the crowd at a parade in the city of Apeldoorn. The cherubic image at the top left (a photo of a bronze sculpture also taken while there) represents those children who lost their lives and are viewing the exchange between soldier and survivor's family.
The things we experience in life have so much meaning. When we take the time to preserve those moments, especially the moments that land in our soul, they can be enjoyed generation after generation.
Preserve what matters most.
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