My Dad Taught Me Hockey
My Dad grew up in Niagara Falls, Canada. So did I. Like many Canadian towns it’s a place that loves hockey. That top photo is in Toronto where we lived near Casa Loma when my Dad was a medical resident. The other photo was taken last year when we both went to skate at my cousin Eric’s birthday. Neither of us had been on the ice in many years. It was a real joy and resulted in one of this very special photos for me of just the two of us smiling.
My Dad taught me hockey, which helped me go to college at Yale where I played. And he encouraged me to think big and believe things were possible. He showed me that you can make opportunities in life. His father was smuggled out of the shtetl when he was 5. He made a very different life and gave me every chance to make my own. He pulled the coach up to the fireplace and played Broadway albums. He got me books. He showed me and told me you could always pick up the phone and call anyone, it didn’t matter what their position was or who they were. He showed me how to make an adventure out of something. I’m so lucky I could talk with him this Father’s Day and I’m looking forward to making many more opportunities to smile together.
