An Architect’s Father

 

A very young me with Dad.

My father—Shiro Nishimura—passed away on Wednesday at the age of 94. He died peacefully, in his sleep, following years of ailing health. He was a very good man who lived through much, particularly early in his life—the Great Depression, relocation and internment during World War II, and adjustment in the aftermath—events that undoubtedly shaped him. He would become a devoted husband to my mother (dying the day after their 64th wedding anniversary), and a strong father to me and my brothers Garry and Jeff. We will miss him dearly.
 
I’ll forever be grateful to my father for instilling in me a thirst for learning and encouraging me to pursue my ambitions. I enjoy a rewarding career as an architect in part because he indulged the earliest hints of my interest in the field. Thanks to him, the staples in my childhood toy box would be Lego bricks, Meccano, and Tinkertoy construction sets. After I had grown, he would never fail to ask me about my work during our visits together or when I would telephone him. I like to think my father vicariously enjoyed my architectural journey and may have pursued one himself if the circumstances during his life were more favorable.
 
It grieves me that he passed the day before I arrived in Vancouver to see him—before I had a chance to say goodbye. I am consoled by the memories I have of him, and by knowing he is in a better place now.   
 
Below is the eulogy I will deliver at his funeral service:
 
Hello everyone. Thank you so much for coming out today to celebrate my father. I know some of you travelled from afar to be here today on short notice, so we thank you for being with us.
 
You all knew him, and you—his siblings—shared many of the same experiences when you were children. I know some of those experiences were challenging and in respects unthinkable today. They undoubtedly shaped you and him in profound ways. They did make him the man and father I knew.
 
Dad was always stoic, prudent, thoughtful, and not given to overtly displaying emotion. He was, when necessary, a stern disciplinarian who ensured my brothers and I kept to the straight and narrow. But he could also be playful, and we know he loved us even if he could never bring himself to speak those words.
 
During his long working career at Pacific Produce Company, and especially while my brothers and I were young and still at home, my father and my mother did everything they could to provide us with the best possible upbringing and education. I know they scrimped and saved for many years so that we could have every advantage they did not have the opportunity to enjoy when they were young. My brothers and I never wanted and lacked for anything. Upon my father’s retirement, I was so happy to see my parents finally treat themselves by traveling the world, a deserved reward after decades of hard work and raising a family.

My parents during one of their trips abroad (I'm not sure where exactly. Hong Kong maybe?)

 
Dad was sentimental and enjoyed the rituals and traditions of the holidays. He loved playing seasonal music on our old RCA Victor console stereo at Christmastime. We always had a big, beautiful tree. And on Christmas morning, “Santa” would overwhelm my brothers and me with the bounty he delivered. The same was true each Easter Sunday, when we would discover the Easter Bunny had brought us more chocolate and candy than was healthy for us. My parents managed to spoil us rotten, even though I am sure it severely stretched the family budget.
 
Breakfast each Sunday morning was his time, when he would joyfully prepare waffles or pancakes for the entire family. The early morning on the other six days of the week were not an opportunity for us to spend time with him since his schedule demanded that he was off to work before the rest of us had even gotten up.
 
Following sports was something Garry, Jeff and I also had in common with our father since we were children, whether it was B.C. Lions football, Vancouver Canucks hockey, or, back in the day, Vancouver Mounties baseball. None of us were athletes, but we shared a rooting interest in the local teams that brought us together. When I proposed enrolling at the University of Oregon, his first reaction was “Oregon? They’re the Ducks. What kind of a team is named after ducks?!!” Regardless, we would occasionally talk about Oregon Ducks football over the years, and I would encourage him to watch the Ducks play if they were in a bowl game so we might share that experience even though hundreds of miles separated us.
 
My father watched the news—a lot. For better or worse, watching the news was a fixture of his daily routine following retirement:  BC1 on Global, CTV News, the National, or CNN; it did not matter. He likewise always read the newspaper, right up to the end. Dad always wanted to know what was happening, both locally and around the world.
 
On the lighter side, he loved watching the game show Jeopardy! Our appreciation for the show was something he and I had in common.
 
In recent years, Garry and Donna often would bring their dog Bella with them on visits to my parents' apartment. Bella always brought my father joy, made him smile, and put a sparkle in his eyes. He loved that dog.
 

Bella (and my mother) keeping Dad company.

He loved seeing his granddaughter Kristin grow up to become the woman, wife, and mother she is today. We are all happy he stayed with us long enough to see his great grandchildren Avery and Aiden, though, due to COVID, he never got to chance to meet Aiden in person.
 
Because Garry and Jeff deferred the task of delivering our father’s eulogy to me, I will take the opportunity now to be selfish and recount a couple of my personal memories of him.
 
I was fortunate enough to spend one summer between school years working alongside my father when he was at Pacific Produce. It was a chance to see him perform his job, to see how hard he worked, and, though we were never the best at communicating openly with one another, to spend precious one-on-one time with him during our lunch breaks. I saw firsthand the respect his coworkers had for him, and the camaraderie they shared.
 
My father’s working career was decidedly blue collar. Though not in the cards, he had the intellect to have excelled at the university level if he had chosen to pursue higher education.
 
After I graduated from university and became an architect, Dad was always interested in the projects at my work with which I was currently involved. Once I left for Oregon, he never had a chance to visit any of the buildings I had a hand in designing, but I would share with him photographs or renderings of the projects so he could see what I was working on. Years ago, during one of my too infrequent visits, my mother took me aside to tell me “You know, he’ll never say this to you directly, but he is very proud of you.” Hearing that meant so much to me.

Christmas 2021

Life is full of regrets, and I regret not spending more time with Dad since leaving for my life in Oregon. I regret never getting to know him better as a person. As I said earlier, we never were the best at communicating openly with one another. Toward the end though, he very clearly wished he could see me more, as he feared his time was short. I am most saddened by missing the opportunity to see him just one last time.
 
I will never be able to say enough in appreciation to my brothers Garry and Jeff, Garry’s wife Donna, and my niece Kristin and her husband Kevin, for taking such loving care of Dad (and Mom now) in my absence. I forever will be indebted to them. I am thankful to my wife Lynne, who is at our home in Eugene, for her support and comfort. I am also thankful to the staff at Sunrise Senior Living for making Dad’s last days as comfortable as possible. Finally, thank you all again for being here to pay respect to my father.