William Shatner: My family values

My father, Joseph, had a small company making men's clothing in Montreal, where I grew up. He was lower-middle class. He struggled and worked very hard. He was gone a lot of the time and when he came home he was tired, so he would read the paper and on the weekends he'd rest. My mother, Anne, kept the house, but she was interested in doing more and always had a higher ambition than just being in the house. But there was no way for her to make that work. She would try to do small things – work as an actress, and she gave elocution lessons.

Neither of my parents really influenced me, although I suppose my mother gave me a push when I was six or seven. I went to a little school in a basement where a couple of women, not unlike my mother, were giving so-called acting classes. What it did was acquaint me with the idea of learning lines and saying them. And in some small way getting up on stage and saying those lines and realising that people would believe me if I said them with enough emphasis and truth. That led me to doing radio work in Montreal, and that was really my start.

My upbringing was very standard. Rather than in the French section of Montreal where there was a great deal of life and ferment, I lived in the west end of the city in a sort of clean, English conservative manner and I went to public school, in the English sense. I went to McGill University in Montreal, so I was living at home for the first 21 years of my life and stuck pretty much to the grindstone. Money was very tight so I had to do it entirely on my own. I was either studying – I was a very poor student – or I was being an actor and that was my life. I didn't do anything spectacular or special and I don't know how all of this career and success came about.

I was raised Jewish. I went to synagogue and was barmitzvahed in the Jewish tradition. I never quite understood it or got it. But I brought my three children up that way and now one of them has it in mind and follows the religion, one of them has it half in mind, and the other one has ignored it completely and has gone elsewhere for religious beliefs.

I was a lonely child. I had two sisters – one older, one 11 years younger – but I realise now I was mostly alone. I suffered from shyness and a fear of loneliness, which has always been with me, it's been a huge motivator for me all my life.

I've always thought that what goes on the mantelpiece is the true test of a marriage. How do you argue what goes on the mantelpiece? What respect do you have for your partner's opinion, if it's completely different from yours? You want all kinds of froufrou on it and I want one simple thing – does that extend to the rest of your taste? On our mantelpiece there is one single thing: a beautiful statue. A work of art.

I married my [fourth] wife, Elizabeth [Martin], 14 years ago and I was attracted by her beauty first of all, which was an old syndrome for me … and I think I lucked out because she had so many other qualities as well. Elizabeth has a great sense of humour and a great sense of adventure and she's very nurturing. That combination of beauty, style, intelligence, humour and loving horses and dogs and children and loving her home and making a home for us, is quite a combination. So I've been very lucky because all that happened by accident. Love is what makes the cold universe warm.

I must have been a hands-on dad because that's what my children [Leslie, Lisabeth and Melanie] tell me. In my mind, I was gone a lot of the time in an effort to make a living, so I am gratified that my kids think that they are who they are today because of my influence on them and my sense of being there for them – although it was only at weekends. But the fact that I was there for them they tell me was important – and they have turned out to be three of the greatest mothers. But I'm always worried about whether I've done a good job as a parent. They have brought their family up in the way I wish I'd brought them up. So something good must have happened!

I have five grandchildren, aged eight to 26: three girls and two boys. At a family meeting with my three daughters, there are 13 of us. Being a grandparent is the greatest joy for me. I have the time now to grab a grandchild and talk, and hug and kiss them and make sure that I'm taking time to be with them and to give them some aspect of the things I've learned. Family life is totally encompassing. I see my daughters every weekend. And we go off on holidays together – everything from skiing to snorkelling. I loved going with my three young grandchildren to Escape From Planet Earth, a wonderful family film.

People with money to leave their children can ruin their lives by giving them too much. It's a problem everybody would like to have, but it's also a real problem. The person who earns it has to do that with a singularity of vision and drive and ambition and hustle and hard work. The problem is, if I'm living from hand to mouth, and my children are living hand to mouth, then we're all in the same boat. But if I've held on to my money and I am living well and my children are struggling, that's not a good situation for any of us. For me, for the person who has held on to some money, I can't have my child living in poor circumstances. Finding the balance is a continual source of conversation, not giving too much to rob them of incentive to follow their own dreams and their initiative. So what do you do?

Here's what I've learned about life. I've been very, very lucky. The acting is great and I've had a wonderful career, but the people in my family mean the most to me. The thing you have to remember is that life is for the living. You only have this minute, this little particle that goes kachung! – and then is gone. You have such a short time to live and you've got to help other people, be kind and just love.