Father’s Day
Edwin MacTavish arrived early in his twenties from Aberdeen
Scotland. The promise of a new life, a new family and warm dry summers was all
it took for him to pack up his few meager belongings and set sail. In those
days the only real option was to travel the span of the Atlantic by ship. Edwin
loved being “on” the water and spent as much time as he could at the railing
watching the flotsam and jetsam. The thought of falling in on the other hand
terrified him beyond imagination. On the evening of the second night aboard the
sun had washed the western sky in a pallet of crimsons and golden hues of
yellow. It was magnificent and Edwin believed it was a promise of how his new
life was going to be. As Howard stood on
the deck that 14th day in June the fathers around him were being
hugged and kissed by their families in celebration of Father’s day. Howard of
course paid little more than curious attention as he was only a young man
himself and not even close to a relationship. That was when Rebecca Kelly raced
by carrying a large bag and wooden tripod over her shoulder that just narrowly
missed Edwin’s right ear. It was so close he could feel the swishing sound it
made, it sounded like a whisper and that whisper sounded like follow me. He did, right to the bow and watched as
Rebecca set up the tripod and then began to assemble a number of parts together
and finally place a camera on top. Edwin had only seen a camera once before and
never so close. He was mesmerized by it
but more to the point was taken by the beautiful girl that was doing the
assembling. Every time she bent over her long red wavy hair would fall and
cover her face and every time she stood up she would push it back over her
shoulder. She had a milky white complexion that captivated him. It took what
seemed forever for Edwin to build up the courage to speak to Rebecca but she
was patient. Rebecca it seems had noticed Edwin hours before standing along the
railing watching the waves. The camera equipment actually belonged to a friend
of the family she was travelling with. She was only too happy to let Rebecca
borrow it believing that she was actually interested in taking pictures and
learning the fledgling art of photography.
It
is on this father’s day many years later as Malcolm was treating his father to
a Latte at Café Artigiano on the edge of Oakville’s downtown that he had heard the
story. It wasn’t the first time he had heard it but it was the first time he
had really listened and understood. And has they sipped they shared a Pineapple
Pana Cotta together watching the sun washing the horizon in similar shades of
crimson and hues of gold that Edwin had watched on the deck of the ship.
“Happy Father’s day Dad. I love you” said Malcolm.
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