Rose's Cantina

Like most fatherless daughters, I have a complicated relationship with Father's Day. As a young kid, I was embarrassed that I was the only person in my class who didn't have a father. In fact, I was so skittish on the subject that I actually lied and claimed my father was still alive, farming the land. That person, of course, was my grandfather who helped raise me. But it took me years to even talk about the man who left this world when I was only eight months old. I tried to avoid any situation which required the attendance of a dad. I skipped the annual Girl Guide Father-Daughter banquet. I prayed every year that we wouldn't have to make a Father's Day card in class. Fortunately, back in my childhood, people didn't make a fuss over dads who were seen as not being as needy as moms. Dads didn't require cards and flowers and chocolates. They just got a nice meal at home, or something. Because I was fatherless, I had a big void in my life to fill. I looked fo...

This is an ongoing series of my columns and articles that appeared in Canadian newspapers. This story appeared in the Ottawa Citizen on August 3, 2013.  Thanks to Postmedia and the Citizen for permission to reprint it.  It's been a hard and arduous journey for my son Nicholas who has faced many challenges over the years. Born into privilege, he got a good start but his soul was literally fractured by a bitter divorce that left him, for five years, in an abusive situation with his stepmother and father. Then he was sent by Dad to a boarding school where he was subjected to so much abuse that he and his classmates won a financial settlement. When he came back to live with me he was a broken boy, and ended up on the street and lived in a cloud of drugs and alcohol while in his teens. But he clawed his way back, thanks to the love of a good woman -- his little daughter Skylar who is the light of his life. And he reclaimed his life through writing. This month, Nicholas publi...

Embed from Getty Images Ever since I was a wee kid, I dreaded Father's Day. When you're a fatherless daughter, you don't get to join in any of the fun, or make cards and homemade gifts. Thank goodness, Father's Day was never celebrated in my public school. We always made some sort of homemade gift for mom on her day, but dad never got a mention. I guess that's because fathers in the early Sixties weren't around very much. A lot of other people's dads were veterans who returned shell shocked and distant. They drank or sat and watched television instead of coaching Little League. I never knew this growing up. I'd always had the impression that most dads were kind of assholes not like the dude in Father Knows Best. In fact, if I am to be honest here, I can say that after watching other kids' dads, I was glad I didn't have one. Dads scared me. They were like clowns with balloons that popped. For a lot of kids, dads were alwa...

The ritual family gathering wouldn't be complete without something horrible happening. Like a toddler falling down the stairs. It's been years since we've had a little one running around and they are easily misplaced. One minute they're in the corner, the next, they have their hands in the dog dish and the very next they're taking a header down the stairs. That's what happened at our Father's Day celebration yesterday. The baby Skylar must have gotten into her mama's Red Bull, for she certainly had wings. I've tried hard to babyproof our house, but there's always something that's missed. Like the plants placed lovingly on a teetery table just waiting to be pulled down. Or an errant cellphone or remote just waiting for sticky hands. Of course, there is also the perfect canine storm: Sophie the pug, just the right size to push down a two foot todder; Finnigan the extra-large labrador with an everready tail to launch her into space; a...

Happy Father's Day weekend to all the good dads and to the men who step up when all the bad dads abandon their families. Unfortunately, as far as I know, there are more bad dads than good dads out there, even fewer men who step up. Mr. Big was, and is, a horrible dad. He never calls his children. Never sends them cards or presents. Never shows interest in them at all. In other words, he is a big fat douche and should have been sterilized at birth. He prefers hoes to children, power to love and money to commitment. He is a bad dad, like Hitler would have been. Or Chris Brown. Scott is an awesome dad, even though he's a stepup-dad. He doesn't owe my kids anything, but he treats them like his own. He sacrifices for the family. He forgives a lot of trespasses. During the Smyth Road days, he drove home drunk girls and carried Stef up the stairs when he passed out in the foyer. He drove Marissa to Cornwall for basketball. He's bailed Nick out of many tight spots. ...