Lessons I Learned from my Grandchildren

I am blessed beyond measure. I have a loving husband, two beautiful children, their spouses, four adorable grandchildren, one grand-doggy and one grand-kitty. My heart is bursting with love for my little family. I have recently returned from time spent with my daughter and her children at “Nanny’s other House” near Lockeport, Nova Scotia.

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“D”for Ditch

As that great philosopher, Jed Clampett, used to say, “Hot diggity dog!”
The school was abuzz with excitement. Everybody was talking about it. Drivers’ Ed. was coming to Lockeport Regional High School! I enrolled immediately, certain it would be a breeze. After all, how hard could it be to drive a car? What’s the worst thing that could happen? You should never ask that question because as my Uncle Herm used to say, The Big Ear is always listening. I would find out soon enough just how hard it was.

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A Mental Health Survivor

Mental illness knows no borders. It can and does touch anybody, regardless of educational, social or economic status. Recovery has nothing to do with pulling up one’s bootstraps. It is impossible to pull up your bootstraps when you feel like you are wearing cement boots. Mental illness is real, just as real as diabetes, HIV/AIDS, cancer and heart disease. We don’t beat up on those people. Nor should we burden the mentally ill.

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Confessions of a 4th Grade Teacher

I chose “Bones and Muscles” as the first science unit each year because it was fun and got children out of their desks. Students traced the outline of each other’s body, cut it out, and then drew and coloured all 206 bones. (If we needed help to remember the number of bones, it helped to know that the number was the same as Alex W. address.) Happy chatter filled the room as each child completed the project.

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Eulogy for a Grandfather

In the minds of his grandchildren, he was a “cool dude.” Nobody’s Grandfather measured up to theirs. He bore no resemblance to the soft-spoken, sweet, gentle grandfathers of storybooks. No, Gramp had found the fountain of excitement. He saw nothing wrong with an eight-year-old running a wood splitter, a ten-year-old operating a chainsaw, a five-year-old driving his ATV or an eleven-year-old using a shotgun. After all, they had to learn sometime. Why not now? His grandchildren: Jason and Darcy Roache; Cindy, Jonathan, and Tim Roache; Jeremy and Allison Clark; and Maria Roache could write a dilly of a book about Gramp.

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That was the End of That – Or so I Thought

On Thursday of that week, I took Mom grocery shopping. In 1976, Shelburne had three grocery stores. We had to make the rounds of all three to save a cent on a loaf of bread.
I had planned to drop Mom off and to go down to Roseway Hospital to visit a friend who had just given birth. But just as Mom entered IGA, I spotted Glenn in the store.
In a split second, I abandonned my friend who had just endured 72 hours of labour and a gazillion stitches to bring this little one into the world. AFTER ALL, in only nine months, she could have another baby, but I had limited opportunities to meet the man of my dreams.

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Noises from the Morgue

Earlier in the day, I had walked to the bank and stopped at MacDoos for lunch. I had locked the front door but not the back door. Had someone crept in and hidden somewhere in the funeral home while I was out? Nervously, I checked the washrooms outside the office. They were empty. The lounge area was empty. The visitation and chapel had no source of running water. Neither did the casket display room. Caskets? Was an intruder hiding under the lid at the foot of a casket?

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Ding, Dong! The Bard is Dead!

Not everyone feels warm and fuzzy about Shakespeare. He has been the cause of years of tears and failing grades. In contrast, his aficionados eat, live and breathe his works. They develop hunched backs from lifetimes spent in library carrels pouring over his musty writings.

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The Muldoon has Landed

Long before I was born, one of Mom’s cousins gave birth to a baby girl and named her Melda Madeline. However, the family chose to call her by her second name — Madeline. Mom always wished they had called her Melda. From that time forward, she decided that if she ever had a baby girl, she would name her Melda.

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A Tribute to a Very Special Nephew

Jonathan, you were a treasured son, brother, grandson, nephew, cousin and friend. You packed a lot of living into your nineteen years. You left us with wonderful memories that demonstrate just how special you were. In our minds, you are forever a vibrant, strong, handsome young man. One of these days, we’ll be seeing you, Nanny & Papa Townsend, Nanny & Grampy Roache, Aunt Ceinwen and many, many more. We will have a lot of catching up to do…

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