I Remember

I Remember…. 

I remember the first time he fell.  We were on a family vacation.  I turned six that summer.

My parents had rented a cabin at a lake for the week.  What an exciting week it had been.  Our family, who lived in a small rural town in the middle of the Alberta prairies, had never been to a lake.  Lots of sloughs but never a lake.  Later I learned my father, as a child, had spent many summers at a different lake. 

At home, my father and grandfather owned the town’s local general store.  Our ‘stay at home mom’ had been a nurse until we came along.  It was the late 1950’s.  We drove all day on curvy, hilly, gravel roads to get to the lake.  Stopping only once to have a picnic on the side of the road.  I still remember it was honey and peanut butter sandwiches with apples slices for dessert. I picked flowers from the ditch for my mother.  She damped a cloth with some of our drinking water, wrapped it around the stems so they would survive until our arrival at the cabin.  They lasted three days sitting in a glass jar on the table.  I felt so special that she cared enough to keep, what were actually weeds, alive.

This trip was special.  Although we knew it, we did not know why.  Back then kids never asked questions just went along with what the adults decided. 

Every day was spent building sandcastles and running across the deep sand to play in the water.   Mom said we were like mini fish as we splashed and jumped around.  Often, we dived under the water, laughing as we resurfaced.   One game we loved to play was to see who could swim the furthest underwater.  I usually won which irritated my older brother. Neither of my parents knew how to swim.  Instead, they sat on wicker lawn chairs, provided by the owner, soaking in the sun, watching us play and snapping pictures with the new camera dad had just bought.  

We had been there for a couple of days when dad suggested we go to the local general store.  This also was new.  They never took us shopping.  I realize now that they did not want to leave us alone at the cabin.  We expected it to be similar to our family store which had everything: hardware supplies, linoleum flooring, window pane repairs, paint supplies, kitchen supplies, expensive china ware, and groceries, of course. 

Upon arrival, we saw a small older building with the paint mostly gone exposing bare wooden slates.  There were a couple of boards laying in the sandy ground for a sidewalk, and one small dirty window.  “Dad is this the store?  It is so small,” my brother John remarked. 

Stepping inside, peering into the gloomy store, all I could see was a few shelves of groceries and some beach toys.  “It smells funny”, I said as I crinkled up my nose.

“Yes, this is it.  We will only be a few minutes”, dad replied.

Bored, John and I went outside while our parents shopped.  We wandered around the building but there was nothing to entertain us.  They, eventually, came out with a few bags.  Impatient to get back to the beach, we both jumped into the car.  

“Would you each like a piece of licorice?” dad asked.  

This was a real treat.  Our parents seldom bought candy. Usually at Easter or Christmas time and sometimes on our birthday.

“Yes, yes”, we replied in unison from the backseat.  

“Just one”, said mom. “Lunch when we get home.”

After lunch, as we ran back down to the beach, mom said, “you kids stay out of the water until your dad or I come down.”  

“Bummer”, said John. “I hope dad hurries up and comes down.  It takes mom for ever to clean up the kitchen.”

“I don’t care if we can’t go swimming right away.   This is more fun than being at home, riding our bikes around the block”, I retorted as I skipped down to the beach.  “I bet I can build a bigger sandcastle than you can.”  Of course, I couldn’t.  We both knew that.  John’s sandcastles lasted all day while mine always crumbled.  It made no difference to me as long as we were having fun.

That is the day dad fell. 

When our parents came down, they had huge grins on their faces.  We stopped digging in the sand.  Dad was carrying something.   

 John said, “Wow, dad, is that a kite?”  

Looking blankly at my parents, I asked, “What does it do?”

“Watch as I run up the path to the cabin”, my dad said with a huge smile on his face.  

“Be careful Bob”, mom quietly commented.  

John started running ahead of dad yelling, “Run faster, dad.  Real fast.  So, the kite will fly high up in the sky.”

Dad started to run with me right behind him when he stumbled.  His long legs seemed to crumble under him as he tumbled onto the sandy path. The kite flopping onto the ground behind him.  He just lay there for a moment.  Mom came over to help him get up.  “You go ahead, Ruth, and fly the kite for the kids.  I think I will just sit here for a while.” 

Stunned.  I walked over to dad.  Kissed him on the top of his head as I said, “I will sit with you daddy.  I fall all the time and you always sit with me.  Are you going to cry?  I always cry when I fall and you always kiss me on the top of my head.”  I sat down beside him, took his large hand in mine and smiled up at him.  

“Let’s just watch mommy fly the kite.  You can go running with Johnny and mommy if you want.” 

“No.  I want to sit here with you ‘cause I might fall too.  They are running real fast.  Then you would have to get up and help me.”  

So, as mom and John ran up and down the beach trying to get the kite into the air.  Dad and I sat quietly on the ground, holding hands, as we watched them. 

I don’t remember the kite ever getting up in the sky or us every flying it again.  We went back to playing in the sand and the water for the remainder of our vacation.  No one talked about dad’s fall.  But, after that day, I was always watching him just in case he fell.  Which he did more frequently as the years went by.

It wasn’t until I was in my 40’s that I actually found out what was wrong with my dad.  By then he had passed away and my mom was in the early stages of dementia.  

I had taken her to see a specialist about her health.  He was doing the usually routine questions when he asked her,” Is there anyone in your family with a medical condition?”  

Her reply answered all my questions about my dad.  “Yes, my husband had Lou Gehrig’s disease.  I think they call it ALS now a days.  He fell a lot.”   The doctor looked at me and I just smiled.  She had answered his question.  To this day, I still giggle when I think of her quiet, confident reply to his question.

            I now knew why my dad fell that day and why we had gone on that special vacation.  A few weeks before my parents had gone to the city to see a doctor.  A neighbour lady had stayed with us kids.  That must have been when they found out and made the decision to take us on a very special vacation.  One I will remember for the rest of my life.