I was a little cobwebby when I woke up today. That's okay: that's what Gatorade is for. Oh yeah, and you can drink it when you're running too.
Fought traffic to get into Vancouver to see my mom (everyone was piling in to go to the Canucks game or watch it in a bar). My brother was going to be there and the three of us were going to walk down to Kits beach to see the commemorative bench that my mom bought to remember my dad.
It was a weird day. As I was walking up to my mom's entrance I noticed this older guy buzzing the intercom and I thought "oh, maybe I can just go in with him". Then we both did a double take: it was one of my dad's oldest friends. He was picking up a tool of my dad's from my mom. We all chatted about my dad and I always like hearing stories about him. And his friend kept on dropping these one liners that seemed so familiar and so after he left I said to my mom "Peter sounds like dad with all those jokes" and my mom said that that was where my dad picked a lot of them up. It was cool. My dad had a really quirky sense of humour (such as "lettuce turnip and pea") and I liked the funny zingers that Peter was tossing out because it reminded me of my dad.
Fought traffic to get into Vancouver to see my mom (everyone was piling in to go to the Canucks game or watch it in a bar). My brother was going to be there and the three of us were going to walk down to Kits beach to see the commemorative bench that my mom bought to remember my dad.
It was a weird day. As I was walking up to my mom's entrance I noticed this older guy buzzing the intercom and I thought "oh, maybe I can just go in with him". Then we both did a double take: it was one of my dad's oldest friends. He was picking up a tool of my dad's from my mom. We all chatted about my dad and I always like hearing stories about him. And his friend kept on dropping these one liners that seemed so familiar and so after he left I said to my mom "Peter sounds like dad with all those jokes" and my mom said that that was where my dad picked a lot of them up. It was cool. My dad had a really quirky sense of humour (such as "lettuce turnip and pea") and I liked the funny zingers that Peter was tossing out because it reminded me of my dad. Funny dad story #839. So Peter was asking if the developers had torn down our old home which my parents sold a couple of years ago and we said they hadn't. The developers had, in fact, rented it out even though the roof leaked and the pool had been filled in and the balcony was to unsafe to use. My mom said that the developers had filled in the pool for liability reasons, and they started to dig the dirt from this area that my father had cleared because he wanted to put a tennis court in. And the guy digging the dirt was rather surprised when his bucket started scraping against the huge concrete slabs that my dad had dumped in there (keep in mind they want to put 30+ units on the 2.5 acre property that I grew up on). So we all kind of laugh about that and then I say, "didn't dad bury a car in the backyard, too?" and my mom goes, "oh no, I think it was two cars" and my brother goes, "wait till they find those" and we all laugh but then my mom gets a bit worried because she thinks they might trace the cars back to us through their VIN numbers and what is she supposed to say if they call her up about it and my brother pretends to be my mom fielding that call and says "ohhhh.... I was wondering where they went". It was too funny.
It had been raining most of the day and we weren't too eager to traipse out into the rain to walk down to the beach so, you know, the rain stopped and we walked down and saw the bench and sat on it, the three of us, looking out at the ocean, past the heron stalwartly standing in the shallows, past the two yachts in the bay, out to Stanley Park, to West Van and to the mountains beyond. My dad grew up in Kits and he life guarded
at the pool only a few hundred feet from where we were sitting.
I'm glad the bench is there. I will go to it every time I'm in Kits. I will high five it when I run past it on our long runs. I will sit there and drink my cappuccino (he made a wicked cappuccino) and think how he'd hit the roof if he knew I'd just paid $4 for a coffee.
Afterwards we decided to go for dinner and we wanted to catch the game which started at 6pm and we knew it was going to be pretty much impossible to get in anywhere. Kits? A Saturday night? With a playoff game on? Good luck.
So we walk over the Sunset Grill which I had been to with my parents a couple of times and the manager looks at us with this incredulous expression and I think "he's thinking that it was audacious of us to even attempt to get a seat" and he says "you guys are lucky: I have one table left". We sit down and moments later the puck drops.
Watch the first period with screaming fans and the game blasting and the Canucks up 2-0 and then walk back to my mom's (still no rain).
The Canucks lost. And it was raining again when I left my mom's (after getting a hug from my brother who, like me, seems to be making impressive inroads in this particular department), but I got home without getting caught up in post-Canuck traffic.
It had been raining most of the day and we weren't too eager to traipse out into the rain to walk down to the beach so, you know, the rain stopped and we walked down and saw the bench and sat on it, the three of us, looking out at the ocean, past the heron stalwartly standing in the shallows, past the two yachts in the bay, out to Stanley Park, to West Van and to the mountains beyond. My dad grew up in Kits and he life guarded
at the pool only a few hundred feet from where we were sitting.I'm glad the bench is there. I will go to it every time I'm in Kits. I will high five it when I run past it on our long runs. I will sit there and drink my cappuccino (he made a wicked cappuccino) and think how he'd hit the roof if he knew I'd just paid $4 for a coffee.
Afterwards we decided to go for dinner and we wanted to catch the game which started at 6pm and we knew it was going to be pretty much impossible to get in anywhere. Kits? A Saturday night? With a playoff game on? Good luck.
So we walk over the Sunset Grill which I had been to with my parents a couple of times and the manager looks at us with this incredulous expression and I think "he's thinking that it was audacious of us to even attempt to get a seat" and he says "you guys are lucky: I have one table left". We sit down and moments later the puck drops.
Watch the first period with screaming fans and the game blasting and the Canucks up 2-0 and then walk back to my mom's (still no rain).
The Canucks lost. And it was raining again when I left my mom's (after getting a hug from my brother who, like me, seems to be making impressive inroads in this particular department), but I got home without getting caught up in post-Canuck traffic.
I know it's corny, but my dad was totally looking out for us today. A visit with a friend of his. No rain. Last table in the joint. I could get all weepy at this junction, but I'll not.
Who loves ya, baby?
We do.
7 comments:
Awwww. That was a lovely post. Loved the car story. He he he. I even miss your dad and I never met him.
I wish he'd been my dad. You are so lucky to have such wonderfully funny memories.
I hope my kids think of me as you think of your dad. In the end, that's all that matters to me anyway. You're a lucky so-and-so.
Wow! what a great post! Like "G" I hope that my kids think something good of me too when I`m vapourised and drifting in the "Ether"! keep em coming please. :o))
Wow! what a great post! Like "G" I hope that my kids think something good of me too when I`m vapourised and drifting in the "Ether"! keep em coming please. :o))
Sorry about the stutters finger:o((
That was a great post. Luckily the hubby never tells me what he's done with all his crap or where he's buried things, that way I can honestly say "I have no idea officer, he was so eccentric." Just tell your mom to play dumb to it all.
Thanks, all.
:)
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