A Dad Story: Memories Lost (Jeanne)

It has been two years since my dad died. (Today is 1.22.2018. He died on 1.21.2016.)

In getting rid of scraps of paper in my life (de-cluttering; I'm not yet ready for Swedish Death Cleaning!), I found an old receipt with some notes on it.

"broken hand"
"Dr. Dumont"
"St. Joseph nuns"
"Campbellton"

Google brought me here: St. Joseph Hospital -
http://www.rhsj.org/en/former-apostolic-sites_382_-21.php
Religieuses Hospitalieres de Saint-Joseph

I can't find information on Dr. Dumont (not that I tried that hard . . . ) but here's what I remember of that conversation with my dad over two years ago (I don't have the best memory!).

He was talking about bequests after my mom died. He wanted to send money to places that were meaningful to him - the convent where his sister, Sister Beatrice, served, for example. He also mentioned Dr. Dumont, who had fixed his "broken hand" when he was a kid. He said they couldn't afford to pay for the treatment, but he was treated well by the nuns and by the doctor. He wanted to track down how much money he owed for that service over 75 years earlier.

It was easy to be critical of my dad. He was pretty challenging to be around most of the time. But he had good qualities, too. (True of all of us, right? Strengths and weaknesses.)

He wanted to be honorable and do the right thing. He wanted to pay anything owed. He wanted to thank those who had blessed him.

I'm not sure how old he was when he had the injury. I'm pretty confident the doctor and the nuns are long gone. I tried my best to respect his end of life concerns, but I didn't follow through on this one. Except that now this blog entry records a piece of his life's history, however imperfectly.

Comments

Another Song Memory (Jeanne)

It's weird for me to think that my perception of childhood was that we weren't very musical . . . and yet I keep having memories of songs from my childhood! Yesterday the song "It's Me, Oh Lord" came to mind and I started singing it. What a blast from the 70s! I know we sang it as part of the worship music at St. Joan of Arc Church, but I also wish I could have a conversation with my parents about the words. It definitely stems from Matthew 7:3-5 about taking the log from your own eye before trying to remove the splinter from someone else's. (Actually, I say "definitely" because that's my own perspective. Perhaps I'm way off!) Anyhow, I can absolutely say that I need prayer. Every day, every hour of the day. We sang this song a lot - mostly at church, but at other times, too. It's a good reminder that I am in need of prayer. I need God's grace, love, and mercy. I wonder what my parents thought about this song. Here's a link ...

Made Up Words That Make Me Smile (Jeanne)

I'm not sure what brought this to mind recently, but "Ishkabibble" is a word my mom used to use. My sisters and my brother and I heard this when something was yukky or gross. I'm not sure about the spelling because it's just one of those words our mom would say! I'm posting a random pic of her because blog posts are more fun with images. She didn't like having her picture taken, but this is from a Christmas dinner at her house. She was getting out the "good silverware." Louise definitely took up her habit of making her own words to fit different meanings. Whatever brought "ishkabibble" to mind recently made me smile. Thinking about my mom does that for me.

Music! (Jeanne)

I've often said that I didn't grow up with much singing . . . but that's not entirely true. Recently, I started singing Alouette ( Canadian version ). It got me thinking about why that song was in my brain and what triggered me to start singing it out of the blue. I remembered back to when we were singing it in French class (8th grade?) and I was very familiar with the tune. I had not known, however, that it was about plucking a bird's feathers! And further, the verses have us plucking feathers from the different body parts INCLUDING THE BEAK! If you're curious but don't speak French, here are the lyrics in English. It was fun to learn about this song my dad had sung to me. Besides Alouette , we grew up singing Frère Jacques . I guess my dad was more into singing (and playing piano) than my mom was. I wish I had recorded him singing when I had the opportunity. I could probably add more to this entry (and perhaps I will later), but I need to work on more pr...

Eileen and Larry Somers

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