ella

Growing up I had the privilege of having, at one time, three sets of grand parents – my father’s parents, Garnet and Francis, as well as my father’s own grand parents, Floyd and Maggie, and Issy’s parents, Fredrick and Ella. I didn’t know that not everyone had these full sets of grand parents and that some of my friends, even at my young age then, didn’t have any grand parents at all. I can remember them all and how they were and how they acted and spoke and who they were. My great grandfather, Floyd, had a best friend named garnet and named his son after that best friend. I. in turn, was named after my grand father. My grandfather, taking what would have been somewhat of a tradition, named his first son after his father and I guess, if I hadn’t gotten clipped, I would name my first after my father. Alas, there will be no Floyd harry the third. It was a long way for that.

My grand mothers were all very different and had their own ways and means and didn’t mind letting you/me know what they were. Maggie, my great grand mother was already quite old by the time I came along but nonetheless made sure I knew that manners extended well beyond the dining room table. She and Floyd lived in a house in Hammond that is now a heritage house having been designated so and the owner really did a great job fixing it up. There’s a plaque on the front of the house now, “Harry House” . It sounds funny to me but I’m still kinda proud to see it there.

My father’s mother, Francis, was tough. Plain and simple, tough. She took no bullshit from anyone and even as she lay dying in her hospital bed in New Westminster’s Royal Columbian she let the nurses know who was the boss. We all kinda knew Francis was the boss. But for all her tough nature there was a wonderful, caring woman beneath it all. A wonderful cook and great grandmother. But fuckin’ tough as nails.

Ella, Issy’s mother was a tough nut of a different sort. She, too, let you know that the rules were to be followed and that, like Maggie, manners were a good thing beyond the dinner table. We spent a lot of summers staying at Ella’s/Grannie’s place in Port Alberni on Vancouver Island. Her husband, Fred, passed away in 1971, the same year as my great grand father Floyd – or at least that’s how I remember it…they were very close in the timing of their passing. I believe both were 86 years old. Fred was much older than Ella. Fred was a wicked snooker player. Anyways, back to Ella. Grannie instituted grand children’s day so every summer we, all the cousins, would gather at Grannie’s for this ‘holiday’. Macdonald’s was still a new thing and still good so often we’d get burgers and shakes and fries, other times it was cold cuts and ice cream and sandwiches or…it was also at Grannie’s that the before bedtime snack, for some reason named ‘mug-up’ was invented. We’d take cups/mugs and fill them with ice cream and put chocolate sauce on it and eat that shortly before bed as we watched the last of the TV for the day. Ella loved the kids. And it showed. Ella loved having that energy around her. Ella's house was always a place where the kids were welcome. At night after spending the day swimming at Sprott Lake or climbing in Ella’s cherry tree and eating far too many cherries, I would lie in my bed upstairs and listen to the radio under the covers, CKLG mainly from Vancouver, thinking about the next day and what it may bring. I liked being at Grannie’s.

Ella recently suffered what may or may not have been a stroke. She pulled out of it like the champ that she is but the slide had begun. Spry and lucid as she had been up until that point, the end seemed certain. Ella passed away this morning at around 3:00 a.m. at 101 years old. She was my last grand parent. She was the world’s greatest mom’s mom – Issy.

In my adult years I wasn’t as close to Grannie, for a multitude of reasons (family stuff is always weird…), as the rest of my family was, or I assume they were, but she was my Grannie and I loved her very much. As a kid I couldn’t have asked for a better grand mother.

Today I’m sad for Issy who loved her mother so very much and who cared for her in a way that was nothing short of amazing. A saint. I love you Issy.

g. xo