My Dad was a natural storyteller. We begged him to retell the same funny stories at every family gathering. We had heard them so many times we could have told them ourselves, but we loved the twinkle in his eye and the chuckle in his voice.

Fisher, Farmer, Videographer…

As well, Dad dragged his video camera around recording and narrating all sorts of events. Hey, that makes him a videographer. Imagine that! Eugene Roache, farmer, fisher and videographer!

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Dad captured the sights and sounds of boat launches, parades, house fires, and the shenanigans of grandchildren. We roared with laughter as we watched grandson Darcy riding a goat, yes, a goat. We looked on in horror as the same 7 or 8-year-old grandson operated a wood splitter. My brothers can confirm that safety was not Dad’s strong suit.

In another video, Dad and his cousin Kai Brophy walked to the very end of West Head, where not a single house exists, sharing their memories of a long ago time and place. I found it fascinating.

Cackle, Chortle, Chuckle, Crow…

Then there were the funny videos. My favourite one was of Chesley Morash attempting to pull a wheelbarrow full of wood behind a bicycle. The wheelbarrow flipped over several times before he walked it out the driveway. Chesley could have carried the wood home one piece at a time faster than riding a bike pulling wheelbarrow. He conceded that although his invention had merit, it definitely needed more work. I can still hear dad laughing as Chesley made his way home … slowly, very slowly.

As Dad got older and had extra time on his hands, I encouraged him to write down the stories so future generations could enjoy them. I had no idea he would accept my offer and keep me busy for years.

Grammar? What’s That?

I remember when the first brown envelope stuffed with pages arrived in the mail. Dad’s spelling and penmanship were a nightmare of misspelled words written in hen scratch.  Dad had never learned to use punctuation so he plunked in periods here and there. It took multiple attempts to decipher what he had written and to figure out where one sentence ended and the next one began. I was stumped on one word for days. It turned out to be “hysterectomy.”

Eventually, People & Tales, Now & Then, Growing Up in the Thirties, The Great Revival, Poems & Short Stories from a Fisherman’s Heart and Fisher & Farmer materialized from the squiggles!

How many people have written one book? My Dad with a grade four education wrote six books! He did not allow his poor spelling, hen scratch penmanship and grade four education stand in his way. Dad passed away in 2014. We can read his books and watch his videos any time we like. We treasure this legacy.

You Owned a Funeral Home? Creepy!

My husband and I owned and operated a funeral home for ten years. I cannot tell you the number of times I heard family members remark,

“I wish we had asked Mom and Dad more questions.”
“I wish I had written down what Mom and Dad told me.”
“Grandma recorded the family births, deaths and marriages in a family Bible, but we don’t know where it is.”

Perhaps you are the keeper of memories for your family. Have you ever thought of putting them on paper, but didn’t know how to get started? That is where I enter the picture. If I could read Dad’s writing, I’m confident I can read yours. Can’t spell? Bad grammar? That’s for the teacher in me to figure out

I would love to help you preserve your history and photos for future generations to understand their origins. Sadly, our parents and grandparents take this priceless information to the grave. If this twigs your interest, shoot me a message with some details and I will do my best to help you. Your children and grandchildren will thank you.

Well, the weekend is almost here. I hope you will schedule some much-needed “me time.” Put your feet up…Take a walk…Read a book…Peruse your photo albums…Have a nap…Daydream…Lock up your phone…Write a book. The possibilities are endless.

A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is
like a tree without roots.
Marcus Garvey