Wednesday, July 31, 2013

My Dad

There's no way I could be as funny and clever as Justin Halpern and his dad, but one stress-reliever for me is to just write down some of the stuff my dad says. He doesn't actually want a response or conversation; he just wants to talk at me. Fine. Some of his gems last month that were not discussable:

Einstein didn't believe in God.

Chopin's wife was George Sand.

Barrios was on LSD when he composed.

Louise had trouble spelling "red" so he told her it rhymes with "bed."

He also taught her about the "rar," a little creature that lives at the libRARy. (In the past, he has told this story about teaching Ann to spell . . . )


From the day I took him for his throat biopsy (June 11)
8:45 a.m. checked in
9:00 a.m. Kay (RN) took dad back to prep him
9:50 a.m. I went back to sit w/dad and read consent forms
10:05 a.m. talked w/anesthesiologist
10:25 a.m. losing my mind listening to my dad
10:45 a.m. Kay checked on us. Timing? Scheduled for 11:45!
11:00 a.m. waiting
11:20 a.m. stories & notes
11:30 a.m. dad went to pee
11:45 a.m. dad went to pee / waiting (scheduled for 11:42 onscreen)
12:20 p.m. took him in!
1:05 p.m. Dr. Schefelbine talked to me / pics / 2 areas biopsied / IF it's cancer, it's treatable / radiation / could lose use of vocal cords / will call w results in 3-5 business days
2:00 p.m. I got to go sit w/dad. Another hour to wait!
2:35 p.m. Dad went to pee. I called Louise.

from my notes:
When I was finding a parking spot, my dad commented that we forgot the handicap sticker. I said that it's actually for mom, not him. "Well, I'm handicapped too!" "Do you want me to drop you off right at the door and then I can go park?" "No, I can walk."

Dad went to school through 9th grade. "Grades 8, 9, and 10 were the same. We didn't have chemistry, dissecting, physics . . . "
"I think . . . " If he'd had K-12 education like today, he would have breezed through college. New Brunswick was 40% French "in my days."
His teacher, Sister Maria du Saint Esprit, hated the English.
His dad could read 5,000 words per minute.
The Ice Ages didn't cover all of Europe - Spain and the Middle East weren't covered by ice.
Tony (his brother) started working at a bank when he was 15.
Back then, 7th grade was enough.
The teachers had the equivalent of a tenth grade education.

If you were late, a big mean nun would lock the door and make them explain. She would slap their hand with a leather strap. Dad told the truth - "I left home too late." She called him a smart aleck and went to slap his hand. He pulled his hand away and she slapped her thigh. She made him stay after school.

There was a crack in a wall (?) in San Quentin. He and Therese were peeking. One time a guy took two bales of hay. He meant to repay them. Mr. Somers (Bert) had the man shake hands, agree to repay the hay, have a beer. They left as friends. Bert was a justice of the peace. He was a judge and could marry people.

His mom was a teacher, before she met Bert. She only had one living brother - George LeClerc.

Cecile was an x-ray tech.
Gertrude was a lab tech (blood)

Gerald LeClerc (cousin) was taken prisoner in Germany. He came out w/TB. He went to school to learn TV & radar technology. Still lives in San Quentin. He had several brothers.

Irene & Gertrude worked in the hospital together.



Andre was bank manager at Royal Bank of Nova Scotia. Died a few years ago.

Tony - worked for Canadian provincial bank / started when he was 15 / studied / became a CPA / bank hired him as a consultant after he retired

Gertrude, Therese, and Larry are only siblings left (& Eileen only in-law sib)

Joe & ??? were Bert's brothers. One of them died in WWI.

Louise (Dad's aunt) married Bernard and had a daughter Joyce. Louise died at age 101.

Another aunt in England was 103 and still alive.

"When we went to Colorado Springs, you got sick." (I was 4.) I threatened to run away if they didn't give me something to drink. I threw up on my dad.

Tom and Ann took off running (after being told to stay within earshot) and we had to walk a long way to get them back.

There was a drenching rain. My dad rigged up two ropes and a tarp and put everything under it. It was dry after a half hour.

He remembers my feeding the chipmunks.

He read to me when I was little. I went to first grade (kindergarten, actually) reading.

He remembers building me a cardboard house and I spent a lot of time playing in it.

Father John responded to my crying with "Mais oui, mais oui."

Tom was mumbling as a teenager. M&D took parenting classes and they learned about good communication. It was "like channeling a stream." Afterward (of course), they had a wonderful relationship filled with meaningful communication. (BS!)

When Theresa was small, she wanted a play table. Dad took crates from packing butter. "I made a table so strong that after she was done with it, it held 2,000 (gallons? pounds? ridiculous either way) of molasses.

I had no tools so I used a butcher knife. Cecile didn't like that.

Mirror story - it cost a year to pay it back.

Al & Larry would throw coats in a pile on the floor instead of hanging them up. Gertrude got so exasperated she hid them. They called her "La Guerre" (the war).

Cecile had to quit school to help take care of the large family. She cried. She became a very good cook. She made a large loaf of bread. Bert took the top crust and slathered it with butter.

They made their own butter. They had a cow. My dad remembers it sucking his fingers.

They got a little piglet. It would grow to about 250 pounds by the time they butchered it for Christmas.

His mom wanted lots of chickens and 4-5 roosters, but Bert mixed it up and got 4-5 hens and LOTS of roosters. Oops.

Dad liked helping with the eggs & sexing them, thought he forgets now whether the round or pointed ends mean male or female.

The neighbors had chickens, too, but didn't feed them enough. So dad told them a tall tale about collecting more eggs than he did, and they fenced in their yard!

They ate the eggs they collected, because they needed the food. People couldn't always pay his dad. They gave him what they could.

In 1938 (?) dad was in first grade. (This is hard for me to believe. He was born in 1926, so would have been twelve years old in 1938. But he was unsure of the year, so . . . ) "FDR was elected for the first time." "My dad was hired as a ??? and made $80 a month - a huge sum."

His mother would pick things out in a catalog, but his dad said not to spend too much money because he didn't want to go to prison for not paying his debts. Larry didn't want his dad to go to jail, so he wore shoes that didn't fit after he outgrew them. It damaged his feet.



Father John / seminary / jumped over things. "He was quite athletic. He taught philosophy, logic, calculus . . . He taught so that the least able could pass. Everyone passed his test, so he checked with the head of the department who said it was a good test and John must have been a good teacher. He skated, played hockey."

Dad played hockey, but got hit hard with a puck on his left eyebrow and it knocked him out. The scar is still there.



He wants me to read his old school papers. Bragging about his A+ scores.

(11:35) Teachers . . . .lessons . . . my dad loves to talk about his intelligence, compassion, insight, etc. His general wonderfulness . . .



Complaining constantly. "Maybe we should just leave if they're not going to take care of me." "We could do that, dad. But then we'd have to reschedule and come back and do this all over again."

(11:45) "Uncle Alderal (?) had a farm about a half mile from their place. At the end of the farm, he piled junk wood (roots, etc.) and burned them periodically. LOTS of ash. Berries grew like crazy! Especially raspberries. He and George carried two 10-gallon lard pails (I'm guessing 1-5 gallon max . . . ) each and filled them full. They carried them carefully so they didn't pack and crush them. Mother or Cecile . . . (didn't write the rest of the story).


Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Teaching at church

A long time ago (at Lydia Zion UMC), I taught an adult class (Sunday school?) based on a Gary Smalley book. It was a lot of fun to teach and I learned so much as I prepared for it. I made a LOT of fun little magnets to hand out each week as reminders of the message. One week was this one (now destined for the garbage can):

The violin is supposed to be a rare, expensive Stradivarius . . . reminding us to value, honor, and esteem the people we care about. If /when the others start losing their magnetic backs, I'll add them to the blog.