Sunday, June 27, 2010
Funeral Talk
I just asked Scott if it's too obsessive to post one more thing about dad, and he said "No, your dad died! Two is not too much." So I'll indulge one more time. This is the "sermon" Scott gave. I think that for the little time they spent together, he understood him fairly well.
I met Lorne late in his life. I vividly remember my first impression of the man – he was short… and quiet. He was a man’s man – flannel and jeans and grease on his hands and a smoke in his mouth. He was like a little cowboy almost. I liked him instantly.
Lorne grew up in a world that didn’t talk about their feelings much, unless there was beer and a hockey game involved. Lorne seemed quiet about himself at first. Polite, accommodating, rough and tumble – a good dude.
My wife Annette often tells me that her dad wasn’t a big talker, but I remember vividly one night, sitting across the table from him all alone, as he described for me how much he loved his kids. Later it seemed hard for Annette to believe, but for that hour, that night, he gushed about her and her siblings – words he had a hard time saying to someone’s face.
He was a unique guy, let’s be honest the whole family is unique, wonderfully unique. I think God loves making people like Lorne – he was never boring. In a world of copycats, Lorne was an original. He was like a flannel John the Baptist, preparing the way in the wilderness. I promised Annette I wouldn’t mention how he would take the family on campouts to the middle of nowhere and seemingly randomly choose a spot to camp – usually miles from electricity or water. I promised I wouldn’t mention that, so I won’t. I think God has a special place in his heart for people like Lorne, people who uncompromisingly live their convictions. People who aren’t afraid to be different. I’m pretty sure God loved Lorne a lot. And though this is a time to mourn, it’s also a time to celebrate – celebrate Lorne’s life and celebrate that Lorne knew in his heart that this is not the end of his life, really. He believed that there was a heaven, and he’s there right now. He never really talked about it, but in his own introverted way he made his peace with his God. He just didn’t want people to know till after he died – you know he had a tough guy flannel image to protect. And that’s good news. We mourn, but Lorne doesn’t. Right now he’s up in heaven freaking the crap out of the angels with his wit and sarcasm. And the best legacy we can give back to Lorne is to love each other deeply, and tell each other we love them. It’s too late when we die to say the things you really want to say today. We have just a moment on this earth, let’s not waste it.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
My Year, My Dad
This has been a tough year, and I haven't been in touch with people as much as they have been in my thoughts. I wish it were different, but this has been the reality. There has been a lot of transition, of many kinds.
The restaurant, all consuming to both families involved, closed at the end of December. The journey toward realizing it wouldn't survive the recession was difficult, and closure was the death of a dream. At the same time, we took on a very large renovation, which also was impacted by the recession and Scott's temporary unemployment, and we ended up doing much of the work ourselves. That's why it's still going on. We've learned so much about home repair now, though.
Some relationships have changed because of not being able to keep up with them, not seeing them at church with the close of the restaurant, and just the general impact of going different directions. I hope that some of them will be back on track again soon.
November 2008 my father was diagnosed with leukemia. It was a difficult process for everyone, friends and family alike. On June 27th, 2009 he passed away. I remember I was mudding in what is now in our bedroom when his wife called earlier that day to say he probably wouldn't live out the night. I gave her a message for him, that I loved him and will miss him. A few hours later he was gone.
Death is not a stranger to me. My brother died when I was 13. Grandparents died at various stages of my childhood and adulthood. Friends have died tragically; as recent as last month. It's not that dad was young, because he lived to be 75. It's also not that we talked every week. But I knew I was loved, especially because he told me whenever we spoke.
Shortly after dad died, I was opening a can of pop for a customer, when very clearly in my brain I heard my dad say "Do you clean the tops of the cans for your customers Annette? Because on TV they said you should because of the rats in the storage warehouses". Before you think I'm crazy to hear that said, I'll clarify by saying he did say it a few months prior. I hadn't thought about it in between, so was surprised at the strength of the moment that it came to my memory in such an internally audible way. His voice and mannerisms come to me so strongly sometimes.
I was in the hardware store picking up reno things. I thought "Dad will laugh when he finds out how much drywall mudding I've been doing and how it's turned out not bad." But then I realized that dad won't know.
Last Sunday, Fathers Day, was difficult for me off and on. I no longer have a dad. I love my father-in-law, and don't think I could hope for a better one. I thought briefly of talking to him about shifting to him this year, in terms of completing the adoption of him as my dad. I couldn't do it. I don't want to replace mine yet; it doesn't seem respectful. Strangely enough though, I seem to have shifted to Scott this year. I bought him a present, and spoiled him a bit. Even though he isn't my dad, he is such a great example of a good dad.
The last conversation I had with dad he told me how he laid on the living room floor carpet that afternoon, just because he wanted to. He also sat outside on the grass for a while, enjoying the outdoors. He said not to worry because he would be all right. I gave him a "reality check" about having leukemia. He said he wasn't talking about that. He told me I had my beliefs and he also believed. In his coded way he was saying he would be with God. I understood it. He was okay with dying now.
The restaurant, all consuming to both families involved, closed at the end of December. The journey toward realizing it wouldn't survive the recession was difficult, and closure was the death of a dream. At the same time, we took on a very large renovation, which also was impacted by the recession and Scott's temporary unemployment, and we ended up doing much of the work ourselves. That's why it's still going on. We've learned so much about home repair now, though.
Some relationships have changed because of not being able to keep up with them, not seeing them at church with the close of the restaurant, and just the general impact of going different directions. I hope that some of them will be back on track again soon.
November 2008 my father was diagnosed with leukemia. It was a difficult process for everyone, friends and family alike. On June 27th, 2009 he passed away. I remember I was mudding in what is now in our bedroom when his wife called earlier that day to say he probably wouldn't live out the night. I gave her a message for him, that I loved him and will miss him. A few hours later he was gone.
Death is not a stranger to me. My brother died when I was 13. Grandparents died at various stages of my childhood and adulthood. Friends have died tragically; as recent as last month. It's not that dad was young, because he lived to be 75. It's also not that we talked every week. But I knew I was loved, especially because he told me whenever we spoke.
Shortly after dad died, I was opening a can of pop for a customer, when very clearly in my brain I heard my dad say "Do you clean the tops of the cans for your customers Annette? Because on TV they said you should because of the rats in the storage warehouses". Before you think I'm crazy to hear that said, I'll clarify by saying he did say it a few months prior. I hadn't thought about it in between, so was surprised at the strength of the moment that it came to my memory in such an internally audible way. His voice and mannerisms come to me so strongly sometimes.
I was in the hardware store picking up reno things. I thought "Dad will laugh when he finds out how much drywall mudding I've been doing and how it's turned out not bad." But then I realized that dad won't know.
Last Sunday, Fathers Day, was difficult for me off and on. I no longer have a dad. I love my father-in-law, and don't think I could hope for a better one. I thought briefly of talking to him about shifting to him this year, in terms of completing the adoption of him as my dad. I couldn't do it. I don't want to replace mine yet; it doesn't seem respectful. Strangely enough though, I seem to have shifted to Scott this year. I bought him a present, and spoiled him a bit. Even though he isn't my dad, he is such a great example of a good dad.
The last conversation I had with dad he told me how he laid on the living room floor carpet that afternoon, just because he wanted to. He also sat outside on the grass for a while, enjoying the outdoors. He said not to worry because he would be all right. I gave him a "reality check" about having leukemia. He said he wasn't talking about that. He told me I had my beliefs and he also believed. In his coded way he was saying he would be with God. I understood it. He was okay with dying now.
Labels: dad, death, dying, memories, memorium
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Finished
Well, I need to stop stalling. I haven't blogged much this past year, because life is so busy with the family, church, restaurant, work. Plus, the well seems to have run dry on my deep thoughts! So, although I will leave the blog site open for a while, there will be no more posts.
I will miss the friends I have made in the blog community, because writing and reading is a good way to keep up with each other's lives and is ministry. I hope to not lose some of these valuable relationships. Biscotti, I'll be emailing you soon.
Until we meet again........
-a-
I will miss the friends I have made in the blog community, because writing and reading is a good way to keep up with each other's lives and is ministry. I hope to not lose some of these valuable relationships. Biscotti, I'll be emailing you soon.
Until we meet again........
-a-
Thursday, July 03, 2008
B&E
I had an interesting experience today.
I had borrowed a projector from a group that meets in a nearby church. I don't know them, but my boss does. I raced back there with what I thought was only a couple minutes to spare, to find that there were no cars in the parking lot. Still hoping that I had a chance, I went up to the front door. Hhm. The blinds were closed. Well, maybe there was someone in the building waiting for a ride. I knocked, and tried the door handle. Yay it wasn't locked! I slowly opened it a bit and quietly called "hello". There was a response.
woop, woop, woop, woop......
Yep, everyone was gone, the door was unlocked, and I tripped the alarm.
I don't have a cell phone, so I couldn't call anyone to tell them that it wasn't really an emergency. I slowly walked around and checked out a couple of neighbourhood houses, wondering which one would be best to knock on, asking to use the phone to divert the police from coming. I wondered if they would come screaming around the corner any minute to stop a burglary in progress. I wondered if driving away would be a problem.
Since the neighbourhood houses all seemed to have jacked up 4x4 trucks in the driveway, I decided driving to a different neigbourhood would be a good decision. So, I took off down the road, hoping no one would report my license for leaving the scene. I stopped in at the Fire Station, thinking that was a logical next choice and used their phone. I called the group who meets at the church.
"Hi, I'm Margaret's associate. I borrowed the projector today. "
"Yes" came the response.
"Well, I went to return it and the door was closed but I opened it because it wasn't locked and I tripped the alarm."
"Oh....let me get someone who can deal with this."
So, I still didn't return the projector, and now I have to see them in the morning! I've learned my lesson. No cars, no stopping.
I had borrowed a projector from a group that meets in a nearby church. I don't know them, but my boss does. I raced back there with what I thought was only a couple minutes to spare, to find that there were no cars in the parking lot. Still hoping that I had a chance, I went up to the front door. Hhm. The blinds were closed. Well, maybe there was someone in the building waiting for a ride. I knocked, and tried the door handle. Yay it wasn't locked! I slowly opened it a bit and quietly called "hello". There was a response.
woop, woop, woop, woop......
Yep, everyone was gone, the door was unlocked, and I tripped the alarm.
I don't have a cell phone, so I couldn't call anyone to tell them that it wasn't really an emergency. I slowly walked around and checked out a couple of neighbourhood houses, wondering which one would be best to knock on, asking to use the phone to divert the police from coming. I wondered if they would come screaming around the corner any minute to stop a burglary in progress. I wondered if driving away would be a problem.
Since the neighbourhood houses all seemed to have jacked up 4x4 trucks in the driveway, I decided driving to a different neigbourhood would be a good decision. So, I took off down the road, hoping no one would report my license for leaving the scene. I stopped in at the Fire Station, thinking that was a logical next choice and used their phone. I called the group who meets at the church.
"Hi, I'm Margaret's associate. I borrowed the projector today. "
"Yes" came the response.
"Well, I went to return it and the door was closed but I opened it because it wasn't locked and I tripped the alarm."
"Oh....let me get someone who can deal with this."
So, I still didn't return the projector, and now I have to see them in the morning! I've learned my lesson. No cars, no stopping.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Extra Fibre
At the restaurant we make most of our stuff from scratch, especially the calzones. We mix the dough, make the marinara, layer the ingredients to make the pocket. Because we do this while also preparing customer meals, prep space is sometimes hard to find. We don't have a separate room for baking, so it is done in the corner of the kitchen, usually at a small table by the freezer. On this particular day I needed to do a mass of calzones so I rolled about 6 out in a row on top of the freezer. Usually we don't need to go in there for customer orders until evening (fried stuff)...or so I thought.
We got an order of wings or tenders or something that we had in the freezer. I looked at my 6 rolled calzones with sauce on them, and figured moving them in that state would be difficult. I remembered that our chef Josh had once been able to lift the lid just enough to get something out, but not too much to lose the dough. I figured it was worth a shot, so I opened it just enough to slide my upper torso under the lid while looking for the chicken. I couldn't find it. Just a little more...just a little more. I located the goods just as I heard a slide on the other side of the freezer.
You know where this is going. I closed the lid and checked out the 2 calzones that were still in tact, and gasped at the marinara streak on the wall. Yep, the rest of the dough was gone.
Scott ran in the kitchen in a hurry (typical), saw the sauce slide on the wall, and said "What the heck happened here????" I wanted to tell him that there was a WWII re-enactment and the red marks were the fake blood on the wall, or something that was less stupid than what actually happened, but I couldn't lie. I couldn't even really blame someone, except to say that I did it that way so Josh wouldn't make fun of me being too careful and moving the stuff first. Josh clarified that he would have made fun of me regardless, so there was no point in dodging it. He also told me I had to clean it up myself. The nerve.
I got 2 broom handles and tried to coax the dough up the wall close enough to grab. No. I tired to reach down low enough to get it. No. Hours later the guys pulled the freezer out a foot and Mat used some wood to get the dough out. Or at least I think he did...I didn't check to see that he got it all. Come to think of it he did say "I don't know what that other stuff is, but this is all I can get."
Calzone anyone?
How bad can it be?
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Congratulations Amanda
Over a year ago, in the winter, our friend Amanda was seriously injured when hit by a jeep on a snowy day. She was on a school break and ran across the road to join friends before returning to class. She didn't see the jeep driving down the street until her head hit the front grill.
In the first week following her injury she flat-lined twice and had 40% of her skull removed so they could take out 10% (the size of a golf ball) of her brain . Her pelvis was badly injured. She got pneumonia, was in a coma and on life support. Things were dismal regarding her recovery, and in fact I had her pegged for dead.
A few weeks after the accident, Scott and I visited her in the hospital. She wasn't in her room, so we wandered around various places trying to find her. We walked through the lobby to check outside, Scott ahead of me, and I noticed the name "Amanda Thompson" on the back of a wheelchair, but I didn't recognize the person in it. I thought that person had nerve taking Amanda's wheelchair when she needed it. As I looked at the hockey helmet wearing person slumped down, I realized it was Amanda. I told Scott she was there, and staring right at her he asked "Where?" I pointed her out again, and he put the scene together. There she was, shaved head, bright red helmet, not the perky woman we knew before. But who would be when in that much discomfort and missing part of the brain?
Amanda removed her helmet and showed us her stubble hair, the large scar and indentation across the entire right side of her head, where the skull had been removed. She was happy to tell us that they were soon going to cut her open again to put back the missing skull, now that they knew her brain wasn't leaking. She and her mom were thankful that she survived the accident, and they told us the doctors said her recovery was exceeding their expectations.
Tonight was Amanda's Grade 12 graduation. She has walked around this past few weeks reminding us about it and saying "I'm going to graduate this year. I'm not getting pregnant or hit by a truck." She was right. 
Monday, May 19, 2008
Lori's Lapdance
At church we had a fundraising dance for our upcoming trek into Vancouver to provide some relief for the homeless. There were the usual combination of adults and youth. At the beginning there was no dancing, but instead balloon tossing and fighting with the balloons. Lori and I had a contest to see who could make it across the restaurant while bouncing a balloon off their nose. Lori won. I think she had an advantage because she has seen her dog Frodo to it a lot. I'm asking for a head start next time.
As with dances, it sometimes takes a while for people to shed their insecurities enough to get up on the floor and start making fools of themselves. Unless you're Mat of course, and you like to strut like Mic Jagger.
Late in the evening I ran over to Lori and grabbed her hand to join me on the floor. She stubbornly refused, saying that she didn't dance. Ben ran over behind me and told me that I shouldn't pressure her to dance if she didn't want to, then moved me out of the way and did a shimmy dance about one inch from her. I moved across the floor to get out of the insanity, and Nathan jumped up and shimmied along with Ben. When I next looked, they were shaking their butts right at her, and Nate was sitting on her lap. This went on through the whole song, as we all laughed uproariously. With Lori's husband Mike gone for the weekend, that was a lot of action for her!
Such a mellow family and church.
As with dances, it sometimes takes a while for people to shed their insecurities enough to get up on the floor and start making fools of themselves. Unless you're Mat of course, and you like to strut like Mic Jagger.
Late in the evening I ran over to Lori and grabbed her hand to join me on the floor. She stubbornly refused, saying that she didn't dance. Ben ran over behind me and told me that I shouldn't pressure her to dance if she didn't want to, then moved me out of the way and did a shimmy dance about one inch from her. I moved across the floor to get out of the insanity, and Nathan jumped up and shimmied along with Ben. When I next looked, they were shaking their butts right at her, and Nate was sitting on her lap. This went on through the whole song, as we all laughed uproariously. With Lori's husband Mike gone for the weekend, that was a lot of action for her!
Such a mellow family and church.