I thought I would share what my sister posted, so that all my contacts also are aware that my dad passed away this past weekend. I apologize for not letting some of you know sooner, but these last few days have been like the Twilight Zone for me. Obviously those of you that have spent time with me, have undoubtedly heard my “Jimmy” stories, and know how much the man meant to me. He very much fit the mould of what you think of when you think of Greek people – first and foremost hot blooded, but also gregarious, hospitable and loyal. He would be as quick to give you a hug and a kiss, as he would be to chase you through a restaurant wielding a knife (trust me, I’ve seen both). He loved his family and his friends, and would do absolutely anything for anyone he cared about. Honestly, if you were in Jimmys inner circle he would give you the shirt off his back. Most who knew him saw his wicked sense of humour and his absolute love of sharing stories and making people laugh. The man had a one-liner for almost every situation. That’s when I think my dad was at his absolutely happiest – being surrounded by friends, sharing a drink and a smoke and sharing great stories. Although the pic I’ve made as my profile pic is well before I was around, I just think it embodies what Jimmy was like. My dad was from Mystras, a small town outside of Sparta in Greece. He always had a loyalty and a love for his hometown and his family. He was one of 10 kids; the baby boy. So the Kakaletris clan is a large one, and he was always very thankful that most of his siblings settled here in Toronto so they could raise their families together. I think its rather appropriate that we’re having his viewing on Canada Day. I once asked him whether his intentions would be to go back to Mystras for good once he retired. He looked at me and said “Part of my heart will always belong to Greece, but Canada is where I made my life and my home. I owe everything to Canada”. He came here at the age of 16. Think about that for just a second. He got on a boat, crossed the ocean, landed in Halifax and made his way to Toronto at the age of 16. I have a 14 year old that I feel anxious about letting go to the mall all alone, and here is this 16 year old with no knowledge of English leaving his home for good. He came here and worked in restaurants and worked his way from the kitchen to bartending as he grasped the English language. He talked fondly of his time bartending at the Royal York hotel, and the fact that they transferred him out and he got to spend two years in Lake Louise, Alberta. He could go on for hours (and he did) about the beauty of Lake Louise and the Rockies and how much he loved spending time there. He came back to Ontario and got the restaurant bug. He opened a bunch of restaurants in his time, including one in his hometown of Mystras, Greece, but what most of us associate him with is Eastway Restaurant and the Corner Diner. I grew up in Eastway. At the time, I was pissed that I forced into the workforce at the age of 12 and that I couldn’t have the life all my friends had - enjoying their summer holidays, going to camps, not having to work, not having to work in 120 degree kitchens, etc, etc. But looking back now, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Its really like we were living in a TV sitcom. The characters, the stories, the situations were crazy – and Jimmy was always at the center of it all. But everyone always came in and asked for Jimmy, and always left with a smile on their face – whether it was his food, his jokes or them observing him do something crazy (see note above about chasing people with knives through the restaurant). It was also here in Canada that he started his own family. He got set up with my mom, which was all the rage back in 1965 and they married. They just had celebrated their 49th wedding anniversary a few weeks back. They never had a lovey-dovey type of relationship, but they loved each other and worked hard through the good times and the bad. Really, I don’t know who set them up back in ’65, but they were pretty insightful to pair up them up. Its hard for me to imagine either of them functioning in life as well without the other. My dad loved us kids (of course my siblings always joke that he did love Mary more than the rest of us…), and he particularly had an old fashioned way of showing me his love sometimes. He really only wanted the best for us, and worked hard for that and set a high bar for us all; in our morals, values and work-ethic. Again, at the time I wasn’t thrilled with his parenting tactics, but I look back now, especially with having my own kids, and I appreciate his intentions. As tough as he was with us, he did an absolute 180° with his grandkids. Heaven forbid I even raise my voice to my own kids, he’d leap out of his chair at me. He loved all five of his grandkids (Dimitri, Zoe, Andreas, Mia and Karina) and his eyes would sparkle seeing them, talking about them or sneaking them Aero chocolate bars when he thought we weren’t looking. So I appreciate you reading this far. Its my long-winded way of saying he was a special man, a memorable man, and as one of my friends wrote to me, a “fantastic character”. I loved my “γερο” and was proud to be his son, and thankful that he passed down some wonderful gifts to me (especially thick hair!). I’ll miss him more than words can say, and hope I can continue to make him proud. I know he’ll be up in heaven cooking bacon and eggs, having some beers with his buddies, and looking down making sure I tell his jokes correctly and carry-on the one liners. And who knows, he may just inspire me to chase customers around the restaurant with a knife.
Posted on: Tue, 01 Jul 2014 01:17:53 +0000
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