My parents are both immigrants. They decided they'd had enough of the pricks who were running Czechoslovakia, engaged in some severely 007 shit to cross the border into Germany, spent a while taking in Western Europe, etc. They picked Canada over the US, and settled in Toronto. Life was pretty shitty at first, since not knowing English tends to limit job options. They both have Master's in Fine Arts, and they're both freelancers, working at home. Their job involves painting real estate renderings for the various suburbs popping up around Toronto and in the towns nearby. They hate the people they get their work from. They want to move back to the Czech Republic when I'm finished with university, since they're sick of not knowing anyone (their own fault, to an extent). I have some sort of really intense obligation to be honest to them, so I always tell them when I do potentially objectionable things (Perhaps not a good thing, but this way they trust me a lot). Marriage did not occur til I was in Grade 5, just because they never got around to it.
My old man can be a overly confrontational and his fuse is a bit short, but he's one of the smartest people I've ever met. He pushes me towards bettering myself, and not being a lazy procrastinator. He knows way too much about art and philosophy, but he insists he's forgotten half of what he once knew. He's very bald, and rocks a beard. He buys me beer. His sense of humour is wickedly sharp, and we enjoy a lot of the same TV shows/music.
My mom was brought up Roman Catholic under a strictly atheistic government. She occasionally clings to religion and it's teachings, but since my father and I are pretty much apathetic, it often comes across as cliche. She's a very nice person, but prone to clouding issues and sulking when I become stubborn.
Having seen my friends' families, I consider myself pretty lucky to have such individuals as the driving force in my upbringing.
