A father

If you have issues with your own father, stop reading right now because when I describe mine, you will feel worse. My father was pretty much without fault. I know that sounds bizarre, but ask my husband, children and step-children; they will agree. Thomas Raymond Griffith (Tommy) was unique, beyond reproach, kind, uncomplaining, sweet, grateful, brilliant, unassuming.........I could go on. My father's genius was surpassed only by his humility.

Born in 1899 in Kansas City Missouri, Tommy was the middle child of three boys. His father worked for the railway and daddy told tales of meeting Buffalo Bill and Frank James (brother of Jesse). His mother was a French Canadian nurse who, with her younger sister, left Montreal to seek adventure in what was then the "wild west". Can you imagine letting your daughters venture unchaperoned into dangerous territory like that?! One thing led unhappily to the other in the marriage and Tommy ended up back in Montreal with his mother and brothers at a fairly young age. A brilliant student, he graduated from high school second in the province and went to McGill on a scholarship. He was a chemical engineer and spent his entire career as head of the rubber lab at the National Research Council, where he eventually racked up approximately 250 patents. Not that he cared a whit about notoriety. He simply loved chemistry. While he earned a very modest salary, the government made millions and millions from his rubber patents. The man was a giant.

But growing up, I knew none of this. He was simply my dad: constant, loving, kind, quiet, polite...a fine, fine gentleman. He loomed again in my mind when I watched a documentary on TVO about a famous chemist named Percy Julien. Could have been about my dad....a guy who loved chemistry and how that love resulted in the invention of things we take for granted every day. In my dad's case synthetic rubber, for example. Think about it.

When we moved we downsized and in so doing gave 600 books to the public library. One we kept (thanks to B) was entitled 'True Men as we Need Them'. I had grown up with this book in our bookshelves, never gave it a glance. When my mother moved, she asked us to go through the books and we kept several. Again, B kept this one. Never gave it a glance. It has sat in the bookshelf in our condo since we moved (four years ago), still never gave it a glance. I thought it was about historical figures, mini-bios, and so I never opened it. Until last week. On the frontspiece, in perfect penmanship, is written "Raymond T. Griffith, Second Prize awarded for French, June 1912". My dad would have been 12. The sub-title of this fantastic book is "A Book of Instruction for Men in the World". Written by Rt. Rev. Monsignor Bernard O'Reilly, D.D., L.D., it was published in 1878 and dedicated "humbly and affectionately to His Eminence, John, Cardinal McCloskey, Archbishop of New York". Other books to the author's credit include 'The Two Brides,' 'Mirror of True Womanhood,' 'Illustrious Women of the Bible,' 'Novissima or Where Do Our Departed go?'. Judging by this book, one can only imagine what wisdom the others contained.

It opens with a chapter entitled, "The Ideal of True Manhood" -- summed up as..."the importance of character in itself and apart from conduct, and the vital necessity for parents of cultivating, developing and molding strongly the character of their children from the very dawn of reason. By character here we mean the firm habitual dispostion to truthfulness, honour, integrity, generosity and resolute energy of purpose, without which no man ever was or ever can be a true man." This was my dad. It's almost as if he lived by the ideals expressed in this book. I don't even know where to start, but the book covers boyhood, education, matrimony, the working life and devotes several chapters to "Obstacles to True Manliness". It talks about the degradation of the fear of other people's opinion of us, of the seduction of evil, of the power of paternal and ancestral example in the home, what charity can do............I could go on and on. It is a wonderful book and helps me understand a little better what my dad was all about. A truer soul and kinder man I have never met.