Keep making memories

It sometimes takes the experiences of others to shine a spotlight on our own lives and our own fortunes.

This week, dear friends, Diane and Pete were suddenly called back to Edmonton because Pete's dad was dying. They made it back just in time, and got to spend a little bit of time with him and say their goodbyes before he drew his last breath.

This reality made me examine my own family situation and realize I'm very, very lucky to have both my parents still in my life. They did a good job raising my sister and me (even if I do say so myself), and are wonderful and involved in the lives of their five grandchildren. Even if my mom is battling cancer, she's here and we still get to enjoy the pleasure of her company.

Michael's parents are also both alive and kicking. We just went on a great holiday with them, they're very helpful and involved in the lives of our kids, and we're lucky to have them.

I have memories of all four of my grandparents. The most faint are those of my Grandma Pauwels (my mom's mom) who died of ovarian cancer when I was seven. Yes, I have her side of the family to thank for the evil BRCA-1 gene. I remember her colouring with me and I think I still have the beautiful picture of a sea shell she worked on in a box in my basement. I also remember her hovering around the stove cooking.

A sudden heart attack took my Grandpa Pauwels when I was in grade 8. He was a bit gruff, often rubbing his rough stubble against my tender cheeks. He loved his homemade beer and boisterously played cards. But he was loving and generous, always slipping a bill between my fingers, or sponsoring my swim-a-thon or other fundraising function. He was also the only person who called me "Tina Marie" with regularity, which I hated. But of course, grandfathers can get away with lots of things.

The loss of my Grandma Thomas just before I graduated from grade 12 was traumatic. She was the grandparent who was most influential in my life. She was always cooking and baking - she made the most amazing chocolate cake and buns in the world!

I remember her babysitting us, braiding our hair and commenting on how soft and shiny it was. (This from a lady whose hair colour changed monthly depending on which box she picked up at the store.) She did ceramics. She hooked rugs. She was always interested in what was happening in my life. She radiated love.

Unfortunately, the nasty habit of smoking caught up to her. Even though she managed to quit, seven years before she died, she developed lung cancer, which spread throughout her body and claimed her life in a few short months.

Grandpa Thomas sorely missed Grandma when she died. But he carried on until he was 90 years old (I was in my early 30s and Noah had just been born.) He was almost as wide as he was tall, had a wicked sense of humour (he claimed to have almost caught Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny every year to wind the kids up) and was grateful for simple things.

He loved visitors and always thanked you for stopping by. The fatty part of the meat was the best and donuts should always be dipped in maple syrup because they aren't quite sweet enough on their own.

I remember him holding baby Noah and marveling at the new life. (This from a man who had countless grandchildren and great grandchildren.) I think he was grateful for every one.

One day, he decided he'd had enough. He'd just moved into a care facility, was experiencing some medical problems and probably realized he wasn't returning to his home. And he just died.

I'm a better person for having all of them in my life and I have wonderful memories of them all. That's the great thing about memories, they can keep those influential people in our lives alive in our hearts.

While death is always hardest on those left behind, Pete and Diane can cherish the good memories they have of Pete's dad.

Keep making good memories with those you love. In the end, that's what will define our lives and keep our spirits alive.

Tina