February 1 we “celebrated” a birthday in our house.
Our youngest Maine Coon cat, Zack (or “Doodle” as he is oft referred) turned one year old.
Contrary to what some of you might believe, we did not have all five cats and Ben sit around a table with platters of Fancy Feast and kibble wearing silly paper hats – although I did see Sheryl rummaging for some old Christmas crackers…
We don’t have children of our own; our animals are our kids – a cliché perhaps but they are a huge part of our life as many of you already know.
However, between both of us we have 19 nieces and nephews so it’s not as if the sound of children running through a house is completely foreign. Sadly a few years ago one nephew was taken from us in a tragic accident.
Point is family is very important to us both. Even when they piss you off. Not that anyone has really pissed off either one of us – lately.
February 1 also marks the day of Sheryl’s Father’s birthday, Regrettably, Joe died a few years ago after a long bout with illness.
Although I did not know Joe for too long, he always struck me as a kind and gentle man. Joe was a loving husband and Father to his wife, Janette and his three kids, Sheryl, Lorne and Marc. If Joe had ever been asked to prepare a resume, you would look at it and shake your head in disbelief. An intriguing and utterly genuine man he dabbled in many things including serving his country in WWII; real state agent; developer in Canada and the US, a landlord – even a professional wrestler; and, a prodigious poet and songwriter! He was a man who would and did do almost anything and everything for his family – regardless. Sure, we all saw him when his illness made him irritable and feeling lousy, but his face would light up, no matter how he felt when his grandchildren were present.
Joe single-handedly kept dollar stores in business. He would buy armloads of things for his grandchildren and they would invariably be stored in the trunk of his car, his own personal tickle chest. Whenever he saw his grandchildren, his pockets would be stuffed with what we would call junk, trinkets. To a five year old, they were simply treasures from their beloved Grandfather.
Going to a restaurant with Joe was always fun (the ketchup incident notwithstanding – another time, another place!). While everyone at the table was eating fish or chicken, Joe would be sitting beaming, eating dessert in place of an entrée. Meat he could have anytime; it was the prospect of eating something sweet, a treat that gave him happiness. And if a grandchild tugged at his sleeve and asked for some, without hesitation Joe came into his own and would cheerfully spoon feed the youngster cheesecake or rice pudding often to the point of having the kids finish his meal – much to the chagrin of the child’s parents who were trying to get them to eat their vegetables!
So birthday wishes to all who celebrated February 1; and a special happy birthday to you, Joe – we all still miss you.
Friday, February 1, 2008
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1 comment:
From the florida gang, we are very touched by your words. Thank you for reminding us how precious Joe was to us all.
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