What Are You Trying to Do, Ralph? Wreck My House?

"I'm praying for rain in California
So the grapes can grow and they can make more wine
And I'm sitting in a honky in Chicago
With a broken heart and a woman on my mind

I matched the man behind the bar for the jukebox
And the music takes me back to Tennessee
And he asked who's the fool in the corner crying
I say a little ole wine drinker me

I came here last week from down in Nashville
'Cause my baby left for Florida on a train
I thought I'd get a job and just forget her
But in Chicago, the broken heartache's still the same

I matched the man behind the bar for the jukebox
And the music takes me back to Tennessee
When they ask who's the fool in the corner crying
I say a little ole wine drinker me
I say a little ole wine drinker me"

~ Dean Martin's "Little Ole Wine Drinker Me"

This time of year used to mean meeting up with friends after a two month summer hiatus and the beginning of some good old fashioned book learnin'. As we all change and shift in this game called life, so did our priorities in life. Autumn and September, specifically today, shifts for me from new beginnings to honouring the memory of my Grandpa, Leonard Paul Strand. I'd like to share with you today, on 10th "anniversary" without him, some of my favorite memories of Grandpa.

I remember Grandpa being gone a lot in my early years - not because he necessarily wanted to be, but because he worked for the Department of Highways in BC. Grandpa gained many friends, memories, and miles working for the Department. When he retired, with great respect from many if not all of those fortunate enough to work with him (including his son, my Uncle who bares the same name) he'd get a far away look in his eye this time of year as well... It was usually about now he'd be on another adventure up North, working on improving the condition of the highways as a grader man. Though he spent many a year on the highways, Grandpa didn't start out in BC or with the Department of Highways. I remember hearing stories of his life in Dryden, Ontario and how he gained the nick name of "Zip-Zip Strand" while working for the Railroads there. "Zip-Zip" was due to Grandpa being able to scale a mail pole in seconds flat. It was also in Dryden where Grandpa worked as a body guy, as in automotive bodies, and gained an appreciation for cars.

A couple of my fondest memories came before Grandpa retired from the Highways and Byways of BC. While living in rural Vernon, BC, my brother and I had to walk down the hill to mailboxes to catch the big yellow bus to school. While walking down the one day, we noticed a crew of guys waiting by large equipment. One of the guys must have noticed us leaving our long driveway and making our way down to the small group of kids already waiting. The guy looked familiar, I turned to my brother, Scott, and asked "Does that look like Grandpa to you?" A couple steps later, "No, no.... That's not Grandpa..." After a few more feet, "Ya, ya - that's Grandpa." It went on like this the whole five minute walk down the hill. "Ya, that's Grandpa".... "Nope, that's not Grandpa". Turns out it was Grandpa and later he told my Mum (his daughter) that he heard us the whole way down. Pretty funny - kind of embarrassing too!

A year or two later, when I was about ten, I got a birthday card in the mail. It was from Grandpa, who happened to be on the Highway for yet another of my birthdays. Inside the card was a cheque and a note. The note read along the lines of "Hope your birthday is fun, here is some money to spend on whatever you like - don't spend it all on candy!" I happen to have inherited Grandpa's sweet tooth. He enjoyed Cadbury Creme Eggs and every Easter I have my share, as well as his.

Grandpa was an avid Sports fan. Liked Hockey and Football especially. (Must be the Norwegian in him, his NFL team - if I'm not mistaken - were the Minnesota Vikings.) Grandpa played Keno, Sports Select and the lotto and the guy had some luck, too particularly with the ponies. The only luck I seemed to have was being born on Grandpa's Grandpa's Birthday (September 21st - shared with who would have been my Great, Great Grandfather from Norway.) While watching the players paste each other on the field or into the boards, Grandpa enjoyed many a beer... Preferably a Canadian. If music had to be playing rather than the sound from the game - he preferred the likes of Dean Martin and Company.

Though it didn't happen very often, I enjoyed hearing of Grandpa's childhood. He'd poke fun at his own Dad, who happen to immigrate to Canada from Norway, about having "tree sons" instead of "three sons". Stories floated around of when Grandpa worked down in the States when he was barely of high school age. When he attended school in the States, the kids used to call him "Strand, Strand the man from the Northern land." Grandpa was a true Canadian patriot and had no doubt where he belonged. He became pretty homesick and came back to Canada less than a year after leaving. Grandpa did travel abroad after that, but resided only in Canada after that. I also enjoyed looking through old photos of all my grandparents. I remember seeing pictures of Grandpa as a young boy with such blond hair it was almost white. (Odd how at least four of his grand kids also had such blond, blond hair.) There were pictures of when Grandma and Grandpa were dating - I couldn't help but think they looked like they could pass for a couple of Movie Stars. In his later years, Grandpa was notorious for ruining pictures taken of him or of the group he was in. He had a bit of a weak jaw line and would forever hold his head up to try to disguise his "waddle" under his chin. After enough razzing, he quit that habit.

I remember Grandpa being a quiet, laid back kinda guy. Don't be fooled though, he was also a witty, funny kinda guy - kind of a worry wart too. I remember being maybe about 8 and swimming in Grandma and Grandpa's above ground pool. It was getting near to the end of the day and Mum called my younger brother, Scott, and I out of the pool. My Brother, the willful little shit that he remains to be to this day, decided he wasn't done swimming yet... Mum had already pulled one of his "water wings" off then Scott took off again towards the middle of the pool. So here's Scott swimming in a lop-sided circle trying to avoid coming out of the pool, and Grandpa panics a little thinking Scott's going to drown or something, hips up onto the edge of the pool to grab him. Just then Scott swims juuuuust out of reach - Grandpa strains to reach, then all of the sudden *bloop* Grandpa falls into the pool - fully clothed, I might add - and yanks Scott down with him. Grandpa stands up and casually leans on the edge of the pool with an expression of "Well hell, that wasn't supposed to happen!" on his face and Scott bobs to the surface with shock on his face and gasps "GRAND - PA! Are you trying to DROWN me?!" Once it was established that both Scott and Grandpa were alright, everyone had a good laugh. Scott got yanked outta the pool and we had to lay out the contents of Grandpa's wallet on the table to dry out.

Many years later, when I was about 17, I had started to date my first serious boyfriend. It was Christmas time and the boyfriend and my first Christmas together... Only we weren't together because he was out of town visiting family for the holidays. "Naturally" being that it was my first serious relationship, and the fact that I was only 17, I had a serious case of "puppy love" blues going on. Grandpa could see this and did everything in his power to put a smile on my face. He would walk by and do his trade mark stick-out-the-tongue-and-blow fart noise... No dice... Then he came up and asked "Hey Lauren - why do you look so for-lorned!" (Told ya he was a witty kinda guy!) I'll admit, this did give me a kick into a more jolly mood.

If you ask anyone of Grandpa's older eight grand kids about Grandpa - they'll most likely tell you one of two things... That when Grandpa burped, he said "Ralph"... Or they might tell you that when we were growing up and at Grandma & Grandpa's during the summer or on holidays and got rowdy - Grandpa would bellow "What are ya trying to do? WRECK MY HOUSE?" I'd give almost anything to hear him ask that again, especially now that he's got a great grandchild, with another on the way.

Grandpa was diagnosed with Prostate Cancer when I was about 11 or 12. When Mum first told me, I didn't know how to take it. He seemed to battle the disease into remission. The second Cancer diagnosis came when I was about 14 or 15 and the Cancer had spread to one of his kidneys. He over came the disease a second time. Just after Christmas, just after I turned 19, Grandpa was diagnosed with cancer for a third time. This time it was with bone cancer. He fought the best he could but there wasn't much any of us could have done at this point.

I had applied to and was accepted to a college out of town prior to Grandpa's diagnosis and he encouraged me to keep my plans. I moved to Trail, BC in mid-August - a small town Grandpa had many work related memories. The day I moved to Trail, was the last time I saw my Grandpa. He was amazingly lucid that morning and asked if I was nervous and told me not to worry because I would be a "hit" in Trail. He also had great faith that I would do well in my studies. Before I broke out in tears, I told him I better be on my way and that I would see him in about a month because I would be coming home for my birthday in September. Little did I realize that Grandpa wouldn't be there for my birthday that year. It's been said that the third time is a charm, and unfortunately for us, the third time was a charm for the wrong side. Just before noon on the day before classes were scheduled to start, I got a call from my Mum to say that Grandpa was no longer in pain. I grabbed the only framed picture I had of him and I and sat in the middle of my living room floor and cried. The following weekend, which was two weeks before my 20th birthday,  I made the trek back to Vernon for his memorial service.

My Handsome Grandpa - even as he aged....
This was put in Vernon's "The Morning Star"
in his Memory

Grandpa had been right. I was a hit in Trail and made a ton of friends. My path of studies had changed, but I graduated from Selkirk College with a Certificate of Applied Business Technology. Ten years later, I still have friends in Trail and still use what I learned education wise from my Trail days. I've missed my Grandpa everyday of my life since, and hold many fond memories of him.

It's Not Always About Me; however; today I am most certainly "forlorned"... I miss my Grandpa pretty much every day, even 10 years later.



In Loving Memory of Leonard Paul Strand (July 13, 1935 - September 3, 2001)

In Memory of Clifford Joseph Taylor - My Gramps

One of the people in the top 3 of my "wish I had more time with" list, would have been my Gramps. (Another would be Nana, whom you've already met through past posts... The other was my Grandpa, whom you will meet later on in my blogging days.) His passing was the first real experience I had with losing a loved one. Distant family members had gone before Gramps, but his was the first that significantly affected me. I can still remember getting the news like it was yesterday though it's been ten years to the day since we lost my Gramps, at the age of 70, to pancreatic cancer...

Some may say Gramps was some what of a hard-ass... That's not the side of Gramps I was ever shown though. Sure, at Christmas he and Dad would talk shop and things got a little "opinionated"... But that's about where that ended. (Gramps was a second generation Boilermaker, making Dad a third generation...) In fact, that's where most of my memories of Gramps lay, Christmas talking shop with Dad. I have a hand full of other memories as well, but majority revolved around Christmas.

My first clear memory of Gramps was puking in his car. Nice grand kid hey? I was about 4, maybe 5, and had slept over on one of the rare occasions at Nana and Gramps. I remember having a crappy night sleep that night because I didn't fall asleep before Gramps did. What's the big deal right? The big deal was the fact that Gramps snored... And when he did, it sounded like a freight train rumbling throughout the house... Then that morning, Nan served up a BIG bowl of Fruit Loops for breakfast... On the car ride home, I started to get a bit of a headache, the car was too warm and my stomach started to churn.... I had my head on my arm, both resting on the arm rest of the car. I remember telling myself "we're almost home, then you can puke." Didn't happen that way, next thing I knew I was staring at my breakfast between the seat and the door. Gramps pulled over to clean up the mess and asked why I didn't tell him to pull over. I told him I thought I could hold it until we made it home. We had a laugh about it in later years, and Gramps was floored I could even remember the "Fruit Loops Incident". Let me tell ya, to this day I still can't even handle smelling Fruit Loops without wanting to race to a toilet. (Or without thinking of my Gramps...)

I remember my Gramps being a solid man. He wasn't overly tall, bout average height... In my eyes though, he was built like a brick shit house. I came home from school one day, to find Gramps wrestling with Mum's dryer... Dad was away on a job, and that's when the dang appliance decided to stop working. Gramps came over to fix it and was just walking it back into place, he did it alone I might add.

Shortly after coming home to Gramps fixing the dryer, I was up at Vernon Jubilee Hospital as I volunteered as a Candy Striper. A friend of mine was also a Candy Striper and we'd take turns driving up to the hospital for our volunteer shifts. One day, after the end of our weekly shift, my friend told me that my grandfather was in the hospital. That was news to me, and I had to run to the information desk to find out which Grandfather was hospitalized. I saw Gramps' name and had to question my parents when I got home, as my ride was waiting for me. I was worried he had a heart attack or something. Turns out, Gramps was in for a knee replacement, which are routine enough I guess in this day and age. Nevertheless, I was pissed at my parents for not telling me.

The following week, my friend and I cleared switching floors with the Hospital's Volunteer services. After my "rounds" of getting patients new ice water, I sat with my Gramps for a couple of hours. One of his roommates' family brought in some boxed chocolates and offered me one. I originally turned it down, but after some prodding and encouraging from Gramps - I grabbed two. He told me he wasn't sure why my parents would ride me for my weight, it was Christmas time again - have a Chocolate! (This being after the incident when I was about 8 years old and ate about a box and a half of chocolate one Christmas Eve at Nan and Gramps' and woke up at 3 in the morning and had ANOTHER good vomit session at their expense!) Gramps was released from the hospital before my next volunteer shift. Sure, that was a good thing, but I was disappointed I wouldn't be able to visit with him again.

Life clipped along after seeing Gramps in the hospital, just your average memories and visits. I graduated from high school.... Moved away for the first time with a then boyfriend to a miss it if you sneeze place of Creston, BC. I managed to come home that year for Christmas, and I am thankful I did. Between my leaving (in October-ish that year) and Christmas, Gramps had been diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer.

When I walked in to Nana and Gramps' on Christmas Eve and saw Gramps. I nearly cried as my heart broke.... My Brick shit house of a Gramps had loose skin due to losing so much weight. I sat and had a long conversation with him that night. He asked what my goals and plans for life were. I told him I wasn't sure what I wanted to go to school for, but that I had it narrowed down to a few ideas. He told me to get as much education as I could, because you could never have too much or be too smart. He also mentioned that I would want to get my education done early on in life... Not to go back to school for a career later in life... That if I wanted to get learned in later life, it should be out of interest rather than necessity.

We finished up Christmas Eve in regular style that night. Nana had sausage rolls and lasagna for dinner. (Lasagna was our Christmas Eve Ritual Dinner if you will.) We opened gifts and spent some time. After saying the good byes, putting on the boots and jackets, (and I still don't know what made me do it) as I walked through the sliding patio door to head to the car, I turned to Gramps and winked. I think we both knew.

A week later, I was back in Creston and miserable. I had blown out my knee, which was easily three times it's normal size, and was off work (I worked at A&W at the time). About 11 o'clock in the morning my phone rang, and my parents' number flashed across my caller ID. I remember thinking, "Why is Mum calling me now? It's not the cheap time...." I answered to find that Gramps had passed that morning... I was too stunned to speak, or even cry to be honest. I had just seen him so the news was blowing my mind.

It's been ten years since that day, I still can't believe he's gone.... Clearly, he'll never be forgotten though... All the times he set up his Commodore 64 so I could play frogger. The time I blew both his and my brother's minds when they found me playing frogger without either of their help....

It's not always about me; today I'm missing my Gramps. I hope you are continually at peace, Gramps.

In Memory of Clifford Joseph Taylor (June 27, 1930 ~ January 2, 2001)

Here's Lookin' at You, Nana-face

"Come on-a my house, my house a come on,

Come on-a my house, my house a come on,

Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you candy,

Come on-a my house, my house, I'm gonna give you everything" - Rosemary Clooney

This is the song I can remember my Nana bobbing around singing from time to time. On this day 76 years ago in Montreal, my Mrs Claus incarnate Nana was born, so today we're singing a different, but just as cheery a tune. We're just missing one thing, Nana.

Growing up, I was a little apprehensive about my Nana, not that she ever gave me reason to be. I just didn't know how to take her. She seemed a little gruff, if you started to colour a picture in one of the colouring books at her house, you were expected to finish it. (In reality, she had raised 9 kids and watched 14 grand kids come into the world- she just didn't take any guff and when she'd had enough, you were gonna know about it.) It wasn't until I was older that my perception of Nana changed and became clearer. (And it helped that I could remember them - my memories seem pretty sparse in the beginning, and I'm not sure why.)

One of my first memories of Nan was about my 5th or 6th birthday. Nana came to Vernon from Salmon Arm and picked me up at my house and took me to this deli style sandwich shop. It was just me and Nana.  I remember she gave me a white wrist watch as a present and even helped me put it on. That's also the day Lemon Meringue pie became my favorite.

There was a family reunion out at Nana & Gramps' farm when I was about 8. I remember walking into the house when we got there and my Dad asking Nana, "So where's Nana at????" I looked at him a little perplexed, pointed to Nana and said "She's right there." He kind've chuckled and said "No, I meant my Nana." We were told that Dad's Nana (referred to and known as Little Nana) was in one of the basement bedrooms. Just then, Little Nana came up the stairs, noticed more people said "Oh My!" reeled on her heals and was headed back down stairs. It wasn't until much later that my Nana started to look like Dad's Nana. (In other words, til Nana looked like her Mum.)

When I was almost 20, I moved away from home by myself for the first time. A couple weeks before I moved, I phoned Nana and asked her if I could "come over and play". I had intended to stay for a morning coffee which turned into Lunch and Dinner as well. This was the visit where I got to know Nana as a person, not just as a Nana. She told me about her life back East in Montreal, her trek from back East to settle the West, growing up and her family, meeting my Gramps and starting a family. (Like I say, she had 9 kids.) She told me stories of my Dad and my aunts and uncles, about how she'd lay in bed and hear the kids she knew snuck out sneak back in. She wasn't dumb, she knew they left and didn't sleep well until she heard them sneak through the window etc. She told me stories about her Mum (The a fore mentioned Little Nana) and about how her family immigrated to Canada from Scotland. Military stories were brought up of my Nana's Parents and Grandparents. This was when she told me she never knew her Gramps (Little Nana's Dad), because he was lost in World War I when Little Nana was just a girl. She told me how she worked in a Department store with one of her best friends. They would constantly giggle and have fun, and one time she and her friend were mistaken for something that was totally Taboo at the time. It's one of the memories I hold dearest. I wish I had written more information down, for this day was what sparked my interest in Genealogy and tracing my Family Tree.

Not last Christmas but the Christmas before (2008) was a bizarre experience. It was always traditional in my immediate family, that Christmas Eve was spent at Nana & Gramps' (until it became just Nana's) and then we spent Christmas Day with Mum's side of the family. Well, 2008 Mum & Dad were back East in Ontario... (In my lifetime, it was the 1st time Mum missed a Christmas at home, and only the 2nd for Dad.) I didn't think that I would be able to see Nana that year... Until my cousins Lisa and Lindsey helped me out. (And yes, Nana had called me by both their names more than once... Must be the whole Lisa/Lauren/Lindsey thing.) I went out to Nan's with Lisa and her daughter Destinee on the 23rd. We were sleeping over at Nan's place then going to Auntie June's the next day, from there Lindsey would give me a lift back to Vernon. (This was a rarity for me, I can think of maybe one or two occasions where I slept over at Nan's.)

We settled around the table, Nan, Lisa, Destinee and me, and started playing a word board game. I think it was Mad Gab or something, it's the one where you've got Wheel U Mare em e on the card and you are supposed to get Will You Marry Me? out of it. I was sitting right next to Nana, who was totally involved in the game even though Lisa seemed to be slaying us. After a minute at most, Lisa was getting the answers. I was starting to get bored, and I started poking fun at Nana... The funny part was, she didn't seem to be paying attention to anything other than the game, and had no clue what was going on. Destinee and Lisa were killing themselves giggling and carrying on. Finally after about 10 - 15 minutes I turned to Nana and asked her why the heck she wasn't back handing me. She asked why and I told her, this caused Lisa and Destinee to bust a gut again which got Nana just laughing away too. I was a little bugger but that's OK, I can dig it.

I wasn't as close to Nana as I would've like to have been, and that was my fault. I remember calling her from Whistler when I did the Olympic stint and she was thrilled to hear what was going on. When I first started this job, she was happy to hear that I was gainfully employed doing something she had done many years earlier. I always had her say the word "bra" for me. Being that she was from "down east" as she put it, she pronounced bra differently. I'd walk in and say "Hey Nan, say bra for me." She'd cock an eyebrow and say it... I just got a kick out of it, you have to hear it, reading it just won't translate. I usually would get a phone call on my birthday, in fact I half expected one two weeks ago that never came.

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?
I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now.

Nana fought hard but lost her battle with Cancer August 11th of this year. I missed her by two days which still lays heavy on my heart. She was survived by 9 kids, 13 grand kids, and 3, soon to be 4, great grand kids.  She also left behind sisters, brothers and many nieces and nephews. I can still hear her telling me to stop telling the room mate to shut up, or she'd go Ninja Nana on me. I can still picture her putting her napkin bib on before dinner, because she almost always wore something from dinner.

Two days after she passed I was at my parents' house on the deck alone. It was getting to be dusk, closer to dark. The satellites, stars and Venus were beginning to appear. I looked up and said, "Well I'm here Nan, sorry I missed you." A satellite just then shot across the sky. I knew she heard.

Nan was quick and witty, strong yet soft and understanding. She was one of the most selfless people known around. My last Christmas with her, she was battling hard and was more concerned that she didn't have a present for me and tried to apologize for it. I wasn't there when she was born 76 years ago today, and I unfortunately wasn't there when she passed. I was fortunate enough to know her for almost 29 years.

RIP Barbara Fiddes Taylor (October 5, 1934 - August 11, 2010.) You are gone but will never be forgotten.

... I miss and love you and I'll see you again, my Nana friend......