Strength in Kindness: My Father's Legacy of Gentle Power

My Dad's MO: Kindness over cool. Service over Sales. Joy over Greed. Perfection over Pride. Forgiveness over Feuds.

In a world where many men and business owners are driven by ego, my father stood apart. He was humble, not boastful; proud with high integrity, not egotistical; generous, not calculating; forgiving, not punishing. This caliber of man is what we need more of today. A man, husband, and father who, though we lost him 20 years ago, has left an eternal legacy in my heart and mind as a person, leader, and business owner. His life was a testament to the strength found in gentleness and the courage in vulnerability.

Fighting for the Little Girl

"To be honest with you" were the first few words of most of my dad's clever and cultural sentences. Particularly the ones where he was being particularly opinionated or vulnerable, as though he was permitting himself to say a harder truth because he was just "being honest." As a father of three girls and the husband of a confident, no-nonsense wife like my mom, my dad was a man of honest, direct, yet gentle words.

My father was always my protector. He'd discipline my sister for accidentally hurting or hitting me even when I started it by doing something like stealing my sister's CDs and returning them scratched. He'd tell me that was foolish (in a nice way!) and scold my sister for being rough with me. Full disclosure, there was this one time my sister hit me on the bridge of my nose accidentally by swinging her arm, and I remember squeezing the small cut to make it look like a bigger injury. When you're the baby sister, you use whatever advantage you have. For me, that meant getting the sympathy of my dad.

He was always on my side, and I was always on his. I proudly held the title of being my dad's little lawyer when he would get into arguments with my mom. I distinctly remember a time when my father misspoke and started his sentence with "you'd better," which was naturally interpreted by my mom as a demand or threat. My mom is the one who makes orders, not takes them from anyone, not even my dad. But naturally, as I am a reflection of his innocent tactlessness—simply for being carefree, honest, and never confrontational—I stepped in, at the age of no more than ten, and corrected my dad's English.

"Mom, he didn't mean to say 'you'd better'; he meant to say 'it would be better if...'"

Strong When I Need to Be, Gentle When I Don't

People like my dad and I needed an advocate. Too kind and peaceful to trouble anyone with our defences or to let them know when they're troubling us. Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that all of that softness would go out the door if it came to protecting his girls or standing up for his wife. To this day, I distinctly remember our weird perverted old neighbor. One day, my sister and I, in our well-developed young tween/teen bodies, were coming home, and my neighbor went out to his driveway next door just to get a long, hard look at my sister and me. My dad noticed, and very plainly and sternly looked in the direction of his perverted gaze, looked back at him square in the eye, and without breaking his gaze asked:

"What are you looking at?" my dad said in his most serious/scary tone.

Our neighbour shrivelled in a weird, hokey smile and said, "Nothing!"

"Yeah? I hope so!"

You see, while my father and I were always friendly and always saw the good in people, even to the people that didn't deserve it, at times to our own pain, all it took was someone to cross a boundary with one of our loved ones, and the fire came out in our tone (something that helps me as a present-day teacher!). When that happens, someone is in trouble. My father was invincibly strong when he needed to be and gentle everywhere else—the sign of an evolved male leader.

Big Heartedness Makes For A Beautiful Business

My dad was a genuine entrepreneur, and it was with his successful European men's retail business that he was able to bring my mom to Canada, where we were born. His store had a location in Yorkville here in Toronto, originally named "Charlie's" in honor of my great-grandfather, which later became "B&B" (Bitton and Benchetrit) to represent his last name and that of my mother's maiden name as my uncle co-owned the business with him (my business is called BB in his honour).

My father served everyone without judgment and always maintained high standards of quality and service. There was a time when a man who looked homeless entered his store. The other sales reps didn't want to bother, but my dad welcomed him warmly. This man turned out to be the store's biggest sale of the month. He told my dad that he dresses this way to test people. Because my dad was non-judgmental and kind to everyone, this wealthy but disheveled customer became a high-paying regular client. My dad's big-heartedness and commitment to high standards created a beautiful business that thrived on respect and inclusivity.

Bruised and Wronged but Never Broken or Beat

After he lost the business to my now-estranged uncle, my father worked all the jobs he could to keep food on our table: limo driver, sales rep at Benix, and eventually starting his next business as a locksmith. He did it all with no ego, just the determination to provide for us. His locksmith business sustained us until his death from lung cancer. He instilled in me the belief that no matter what we do, big or small, we need to "do it perfectly." His success may have fluctuated from being taken advantage of by others, but his ability, dedication, and commitment to stay strong, happy, grateful, loving, and providing for all of us never did. No matter what he did or what he earned, my father gave us everything we needed and wanted. Despite not having the emerging tech we have today, my sister and I never felt deprived of anything. Even in a family of five living in a three-bedroom little house where my sister and I shared a room and we all started working at 15 so we could buy any of our non-needs or wants, we never felt deprived.

And now, after losing him at 15 to lung cancer, I only feel deprived now for not being able to hold or hug him for the last 20 years he's been gone.

But I will never totally lose him for his legacy lives and breathes with me: his work ethic, dedication to seeing the good in people, in life, and in love. His ability to always have a smile on his face and a weird joke to cut the tension even while undergoing rounds of chemo, demonstrates the sheer power of this man's spirit.

His kind and gentle soul lives in me and has become the standard I hold for all other incoming men in my life. While the world may see someone who forgives and sacrifices like my dad as being soft, my father's kindness to everyone, even his enemies, is a strength that kept our world bright and light no matter what life threw at us.

He was a man who made his own luck, did what had to be done to provide without ego or entitlement. He gave way more than he took, and his endless love and commitment to everyone in his path make him the strongest, bravest, and best model for men, business owners, salespeople, and of course, fathers.

Because of him, I learned the power of gratitude, hard work, and resilience and joy in the face of the worst in health and success. Like him, I have the strength he had from my mother to advocate for him while he consistently advocated for all of us along with his friends, colleagues, clients, strangers and even those who wronged him.

I carry and share his legacy of having high standards for quality, service, and our bodies of work; loving everyone; even those who wrong me, loving life no matter what is in my bank account, being grateful for everything we have, and always making the decision to be joyful. He taught me to never take anything or anyone for granted but to not take life too seriously either.

With his legacy of strength in gentleness and his generous and protective love and service, I can be proud of who I have become, knowing that my kindness, honesty, vulnerability, and forgiving nature is not a weakness but rather the greatest strength and courage one can have in an otherwise selfish world.

I love you dad. Forever and Always. RIP.

May we have more of your kind of soul in our men, fathers, businesses and world.