A Tribute to My Father's Impact on My Life

After completing the second revision of my book in mid-January, my father passed away. I had hoped he could hold a physical copy of it as a testament to everything he had instilled in me: love, support, hope, belief, values, compassion, and kindness. Growing up, my father was my biggest inspiration. He had an entrepreneurial spirit, and I have countless stories about him that I can tell. But for now, here is just one.

In my early twenties, I visited my Dad, who lived in a secluded home on the Bay of Quinte. I shared my desire to become an entrepreneur, just like him. My Dad saw this as an opportunity to share his insights with me. He asked me to walk with him along the shoreline, where he then paused to gaze out at the vast expanse of water and share a story with me. "Son," he began, "there are two types of men in this world - you're either a farmer or a fisherman. Which one will you choose to be?"

I gazed at my father with a questioning look, unsure of where his story was heading. I responded, "What are you trying to say, Dad?"

As he looked at me, my father said, "Son, a farmer tends to his soil before sowing his seeds. He plants his crops at the right time and nurtures them with care. His seeds grow roots and become plants, maturing into harvests that support local economies. A farmer works hard to guide the lifecycle of many growing seasons. And even then, he always makes sure to leave behind some seeds for future generations." He then turned to me warmly and said, "A fisherman, on the other hand, plans his days around going out on the water with his fishing pole. He spends his life hoping for that big catch, with some men spending their entire lives chasing after that elusive trophy fish. You must decide who you are - a farmer or a fisherman?"

I thought about his story momentarily and then declared, "A farmer!" He smiled and replied, "Then it's time to start preparing your beds and testing the soil. If you want to start a business, consider how you can help others. Plant your ideas and tend to them with care."

We walked along the shore silently, without any further words of wisdom. Little did I know then how his story would shape my life and remain with me for all these years. Even now, I can close my eyes and still see the bay, still, hear his voice fueling a young man's curiosity to be like his father.

After my father's passing, I reached out to a dear friend who saw my father as his own. As I recounted the tale to Finn, he reminded me of something: "Your Dad was undeniably a farmer, but he also lived on a farm with a river running through it. And now and then, during the season, your Dad would go to the woodshed, grab his fishing rod and tackle box, and head down to the river. He'd cast his line and reel in from the shore a big fish."

A smile formed on my lips as I listened to Finn's voice through the phone. It was a small comfort, but in that moment, it brought me closer to my Dad in a way nothing else could.