News and event information for Williams Lake, BC - as it happens.

By LeRae Haynes 

I spent Thanksgiving weekend at a family reunion on the Oregon coast. My grandfather passed away two months ago at the age of 95 and we all decided that a celebration of his life on the beautiful rugged coast would be a fitting way to say goodbye. 

There were 23 of us, ranging in age from two to 72, including one second cousin on the way. There were editors, health practitioners, high school students, preschoolers, lawyers, a scientist, a fire fighter and a bus driver. There was a full-time wonderful mother, a retired teacher and an electrical apprentice. 

We played with the kids, cooked meals together, flew a kite on the beach and went for hikes and played golf. We told stories, tried to get caught up with each other’s lives and couldn’t believe how old we’ve all gotten. 

When we all assembled to share our favourite stories about Grandpa, there were some tears and lots of laughter, but most of all there were stories. There were stories tumbled on stories and we each heard tidbits about him that we didn’t know. We found out that he helped one granddaughter re-finish an antique trunk, for example, and then drove her hundreds of miles for her first year at university. 

We found out that he rescued five baby flying squirrels while working as a faller in the woods, that when caught napping in church he always said he was just ‘resting his eyes’ and that he sometimes wrote humourous poetry. 

We found out that we all loved the smell of his pickup truck—a mix of chain saw oil, evergreen needles and sawdust. We were all reminded that he was infinitely patient, gave exuberant, powerful hugs, remembered everything he ever read, and did a crossword puzzle every day of his life. 

One of the most amazing stories about him was the time when he was working as a milk delivery man. While dropping off a bottle of milk at dawn one morning, he was stunned to see a naked woman hurrying up the sidewalk toward the house. 

“I always lose at strip poker,” she told him as she disappeared through the screen door into the house. He managed to stumble out to his milk cart and start the horse down the street before bursting out laughing. He laughed uproariously and with such vigour that his jaw got stuck and it was an hour before he could close his mouth. 

I think that one of the most amazing things about a family reunion is hanging out with a bunch of people that you don’t see as often as you like, but with whom you have some notable genetic similarities. 

There were people with Grandma’s narrow little shoulders and stunted toes, for instance, as well as people with Grandpa’s muscular stature and mechanical inclinations. There were people who inherited Grandma’s passion for domesticity and her penchant for ‘vege-swearing' and people with Grandpa’s gift for enthusiastic, off-key singing. 

We were all reminded again how lucky we are, how blessed we are and how much we have to be thankful for. We were reminded that, while everyone may not always be lucky at strip poker, everyone should always stop to have fun with their family once in a while. 

Thank you, Grandpa.

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