Remembering Roman Ostrovsky

The unexpected passing of my father has been unimaginably difficult for my family. While he did lead a full life with no regrets, losing a man of his stature, importance and impact is never easy.

I wanted to share my thoughts on my father’s life and the effect it had on others.

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But first, I wanted to acknowledge a few people. First, the staff at Cortellucci Hospital My father’s life on Earth ending at this hospital has a poetic twist to it. He long harped on the need for a hospital in Vaughan and played a part in its financing. At an auction to raise money for the hospital, my dad bid for the rights to have a street named after him. My mom saw him raising his hand and asked, “What are you doing?!” And he said “I want to win this, I want a street named after me”. He won, of course, with a final bid of $14,000. Ostrovsky Road is located near the corner of Weston & Teston. He also liked the fact that the houses they built on it are all very big and expensive. Large, gaudy, luxurious structures were definitely his aesthetic. Based on the care he got at Cortellucci, it was a great investment. And he knew it, too. We joked about this on the Sunday as he lay in the hospital bed. . From the doctors to the nurses to the cleaning staff, every single member of the team was absolutely first class in providing compassionate care to my dad and my family. I could not have been happier with the care he received and my family was very fortunate that my dad’s final breaths were taken in such an outstanding facility.

I’d like to also acknowledge my sister. She was a great source of support for my mom the first few days and helped notify the right people about what was happening. At a time when I found myself scared, vulnerable and rudderless, my sister projected strength for my family and I’m very grateful to her for this.

I wanted to thank Mari Vosburg, a long time family friend, for her everlasting support these past few days. Mari, the hug you gave me when you came to the hospital ranks in the top 10 hugs of all time. I *really* needed it in that moment and I'm so thankful for your friendship and kindness to my family all these years. I totally understand why my dad held you in such high regard all these years. You were one of his favourites.

Lastly, I wanted to thank my Gillian. As my dad lay in the hospital bed, she massaged his forehead, rubbed his feet, and held a cup of ginger ale so he could sip from it. She regaled my dad with all sorts of mundane details about Sebastian’s swimming lessons . There was no detail too small or irrelevant to my dad when it came to Sebastian. He’d often text me to ask how Sebastian’s day at school was or how did hockey go and I’d reply with “Good”, “Fine” etc. But he soon realized Gill could write a 1500 word essay on Sebastian’s trip to the dentist and so Gill and my dad struck up a texting relationship based on the day-to-day goings-on of Sebastian. She brought him so much comfort in his last days. Gilly, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so thankful to have you in my life. And my dad knew how great you were too. He told my mom on that Sunday “Gill is such a loving and caring person”. You truly were his second daughter. I love you honey.

In recent days, many of you have reached out to me and offered words of support. I can’t begin to express how much this has meant to me. It might seem small and trite, but believe me, every single text and every single email meant the world to me. What I did notice was that people repeatedly referred to my father using the same two words or phrases. They either referred to him as “larger than life” or they used the word “legend”. I particularly like the word “legend” to describe my dad for two reasons.

First, legends often straddle the line between fact and fiction. Did the President of Ecuador really give my dad a private helicopter tour of the Galapagos Islands and proceed to land the helicopter directly on the environmentally protected islands in direct violation of UNESCO heritage laws? (Probably). Did my dad really walk into a grocery store in Florida and upon seeing cherry cola on sale for 19 cents a bottle proceed to buy EVERY SINGLE BOTTLE in the store? (Yes).I vividly and painfully remember drinking nothing but cherry cola for about 6 months. I don’t think I’ve had a drop since. Did my dad actually challenge a sporting goods store manager to a game of ping pong with a promise of receiving 40% off a Blue Jays World Series T-Shirt if he won? (Yes). Did he win? (Take a guess.)

Secondly, I love the word “legend” because legends never die. They live on forever through our stories. I’d like to share with you some stories about my dad to better illustrate why the man was such a legend.

Husband

My grandmother told me this first story in Russian, so some of the details might have been lost in translation, but I think I got the gist of it.

My mother was a very attractive 18 year old and a few of her older brother’s friends fancied her but none were bold enough to make a move. In steps my dad, struttin’ around like he owns the place and his confidence and self-assuredness really impressed my grandfather. On their first date, my dad told my mom he’d take her to the ballet. They soon arrived at a soccer pitch where all of his friends were waiting. Confused, my mom asked “I thought we were going to the ballet?” to which my dad replied, “Well, watch as my friends and I move around the pitch with the ball. It's artistry, like we’re dancing. So it’s kind of like ballet?”.Absolute baller move. Legendary.

Undeterred, my mom agreed to marry my dad and two months (!!) later they were married on April 29, 1972. We all celebrated their 50th anniversary this year.

Father

The next story takes place about 7 years later when my parents decided to defect from the Soviet Union. The way this was done back then was you got on a train to Austria, then onto another train to Italy where you’d stay in a refugee processing centre until your final destination was decided.My parents was offered 50,000 NZD and a sheep farm to move to New Zealand. My dad said “I don’t know anything about sheep” and wisely chose Canada

When my parents, brother and sister (I wasn’t born yet) arrived at the train station, another family of 4 was also there. However, there were only enough seats for seven people. Naturally, my dad let the other family get the four tickets they needed and he slept with the luggage. That’s the kind of man he was. Legend.

Fast forward a few years to when I was about 4 or 5. My dad took me to the food court at Centre Point mall for some KFC. I don’t remember why exactly; it must have been a special occasion because we never got fast food just because.

It was right after school and there were a lot of high school kids milling about, hooting and hollering and swearing and I was very scared. My dad could tell and he looked at me, did this blinking thing he used to do to calm me and said “Don’t worry, just eat, you’re fine.” In that moment, he might as well have been 100 ft. tall. He was my real life super hero. Other kids my age wanted to be Wayne Gretzky or Joe Montana. I wanted to be like my dad.

There's no manual they hand out when you become a father. On the surface, it appears you kind of just learn as you go, but that's not quite right. In fact, you take your cues from your own father and replicate what worked with your own children. My dad taught me that when you make a promise, you always keep it. In forty one years, he never broke a promise me to - ever. He told me that a lot of things can be taken away from you, but your word and your integrity were yours and yours alone, so guard them carefully.

My father continually stressed the importance of education. I felt a lot of pressure to succeed in school, compounded by the fact that my brother and sister always brought home such high grades, I had to keep up. But all of my siblings' and my success in life is directly attributed to our education How my dad loved his 'Yale Dad' shirt. He wore it with immense pride.. I'm trying to convey the importance of education to Sebastian, but perhaps with a little less pressure. If I showed my dad I got a 97 on a math test, his first question would be "What happened to the other 3?". He had high expectations of us. It made me work harder.

Another thing I learned from my dad is putting a smile on your child's face is priceless. We used to always tease him about how he always wore the same old running shoes. Well, the reason he did was so he could have money to buy us a new pair of Nike for each school year. We used to do our back-to-school shopping in Erie, Pennsylvania. One year's worth of clothes all in one day. One of my dad's favourite parlour tricks was to calculate the total bill before the cashier finished ringing up all the items and then smiling at how impressed she'd be. They would look at my dad like he was Rain Man. Our happiness was worth more to him than anything.

He used to ask me to give him a kiss when he was sick because he claimed my kisses were better than any medicine. I'd roll my eyes and do it, but you know what, when I'm sick and Sebastian gives me a hug or a kiss, I actually do feel better. Maybe he was on to something?

I've long thought if I could become half the father to Sebastian that my dad was to me, that would be a pretty good achievment. He was the perfect father.

Grandfather

My parents were already blessed with a beautiful little princess of a granddaughter in Keya, but on September 10, 2014 when Sebastian was born, to say my father was over the moon would be an understatement. He was in another galaxy.

My parents were already at our house before we got back from the hospital and my dad immediately said “Let me hold the baby!” and no sooner than I could lay tiny Sebastian in my dad’s warm, comforting arms did he begin telling a less-than-one-day old Sebastian all the things he was going to buy him.This laid the groundwork for their symbiotic relationship. Sebastian soon learned that when he wants something, there’s no point in asking mom or dad, just skip the middleman and go straight to the top. When I’d drop Sebastian off with my parents for the day, he’d wait for me to leave, then go on my dad’s computer, open up amazon.ca and begin to tell my dad all things he wanted. Of course, my dad was always all too eager to oblige. My dad and Sebastian probably raised Canada’s GDP a few points just by themselves.

My parents were so helpful in those early weeks as Gill and I navigated life as new parents. They visited very frequently, perhaps too frequently. My dad would come up with any excuse to come see Sebastian. One day he called me and said “I was in your area grocery shopping and bought too much orange juice. I’ll come by and drop it off.” Huh? You were 40 minutes away from your house grocery shopping? And how exactly does someone buy too much orange juice? Of course, this was a thinly veiled ruse to come see Sebastian, if only for an extra few minutes.

I know all grandparents love their grandchildren, but the relationship Sebastian had with my dad transcended normal family bonds. There was a whole other level to how much they loved each other. And they bonded over their shared love of swimming. Sebastian's first dip in the Atlantic Ocean was in my dad's arms. My dad often took Sebastian swimming at the pool at Maple Community Centre and took great pride in seeing the female lifeguards all cooing over his little Magic Angel. I’m very grateful my dad got to see Sebastian grow up and take after him in becoming a great swimmer.

Of course, I wish my dad could have seen Sebastian grow up to become a young man, graduate high school, go to university and beyond. But I think that's me being a bit greedy. They had eight amazing years together and it's not the quantity of time you spend with someone, it's the quality. I cannot think of any one thing I wish they had done during those eight years that they hadn't done. We went on family vacations together, they took naps together, they ate snacks together and they shopped together. Sebastian and my dad were best friends.

Legend

As my family and I have received all of your warm messages these past few days, I’m reminded of my father’s outsized impact on our world. I’m reminded of the all the people he helped get into law school, medical school, business school, dental college and teacher’s college. I’m reminded of the people he helped bring to Canada, helped with their permanent residence applications, helped with their citizenship applications. I’m reminded of the Bay Street lawyers my dad helped get visas to Russia. I’m reminded of the people he helped get their first job, buy their first house (me), start their first business (me), and build their first factory. I'm reminded of the improvements to community facilities my dad was responsible for ushering in. I’m reminded of the politicians whose campaigns he helped finance (and which ones owed him a favour). I’m reminded of the kids he helped tutor in math and the kids he helped pass their lifeguard tests. I’m reminded of the people who my dad helped avoid jail time.My dad kept some interesting company to say the least I’m reminded of the people who could not count on their own father to be there for them and my dad stepping in to act like a surrogate father.

Steve Jobs once said of his time at Apple that what he wanted from his employees were people who wanted to make a dent in the Universe, a meaningful impact on the lives of others.

Taking a step back and reflecting upon my father’s body of work, his lasting legacy, I’d say my dad didn’t just make a dent in the Universe. He punched a hole in it and stepped right through.

I’d like to end my tribute to my dad’s life with us on Earth with a song verse.Ironically, this song was made popular by an artist, Frank Sinatra, whom my dad detested. He used to say “He’s not even singing, he’s just talking!” The idea came to me when I overheard my mom in the hospital telling someone that my dad’s philosophy in life was “I do whatever I want.” Rules, policies, protocols and procedures were for everyone else. My dad always did whatever he wanted.

On behalf of my mom, my brother, my sister, Gillian, Jamie, Keya and Sebastian, I’d like to thank you all for letting us share my dad’s life with you and for being a part of his life. He loved you all so much.

Roman Ostrovsky was a loving husband.
Roman Ostrovsky was a phenomenal father.
Roman Ostrovsky was a doting grandfather.
Roman Ostrovsky was, and will always be, a legend.

I love you Roma.

- Love, Martin