A proud day!

My daughter Stefanie has been studying in Portland Oregon for the past three years. Past blogs have documented her journey and our many adventurous visits with her in that "weird" but fun town.

After all the long days and nights studying new things and practicing new skills the day finally came. I am proud to say that she graduated Cum Laude from the University of Western States on June 23. And...she is not only a Doctor of Chiropractic Medicine but she also received her Masters of Science in Sports Medicine!

Andrea, Dr. Stefanie and I

She will be working for awhile in a chiropractic clinic an hour west of Portland, closer to her boyfriend Cody.  I wish she was closer to us but when we visit we can enjoy the wine region and explore more of the spectacular Oregon Coast.    

Yukola Elsie McKinnon

I want to share some of my fond memories of Keith's mother, Yukola, who passed away March 8, 2016 after living for many years with Alzheimer's Disease.  

From the first time I met Yukola she accepted me into the family. In fact, my mother tells the story of meeting Yukola in 2007 (only two years after I met Keith) and she told her: “I hope Cynthia and Keith get married!”

She was an educator and an advocate for children with learning disabilities. I know that her lifelong work has influenced so many lives - teachers, parents and most importantly her students in so many ways.  My daughter Andrea enjoyed and learned from their “teacher talks”.

She always put her family first and with Don spent time supporting their children, grandchildren, and extended family.

She bemoaned the fact that she wasn't musical and couldn't carry a tune but she was artistic. We are kept warm by her Irish knit blanket and I recall her hand made scarves and knitting. I have saved many of her pressed flower cards. 

I will never forget her hearty and throaty laugh.   Keith has often commented that he remembers his Mom laughing all the time when he was growing up.

After knowing things weren't quite right for many years, Yukola was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease in 2010. She faced her disease with courage and grace which made it easier for the rest of us. She was always pragmatic, especially in dealing with her health.  After her diagnosis she wrote her biography.  I was amazed at her courage to honestly share the story of her life and living with Alzheimer’s. The book was published and reprinted with demand from so many people including members of the Alzheimer’s society. Always the educator,  she and her husband Don regularly met with medical students so they could better understand the disease. They also spoke about their experience living with with the disease and answered questions from an audience at their church.  

The disease robbed us of the person we knew and loved.  During the last few years of her life I missed her but remembered the remarkable woman she was.  I admired her voracious reading, her intelligence, her outspoken yet tactful expression of issues that concerned her and her unselfishness.  Right to the end she was thinking of others by donating her body to medical science.  

Yukola has been an inspiration to me in many ways. Her spirit lives on.  

My Father

My father, Derek Smith, passed away suddenly on February 26 while doing something he loved, vacationing in Mexico. 

I am his oldest child. He endearingly called me Poopsy when I was very young and Sniff when I got older! 

He was born and raised in Montreal, was fluently bilingual, graduated from Sir George Williams University with a Bachelor of Commerce and went on to a successful management career, mostly in the area of manufacturing. He was a lifelong volunteer to many worthy causes. And he was a good Dad!

One of my earliest memories was one evening a week we were alone as my mother was working.  He made me the same meal each week, which he called “Wimpy’s Special” – mashed potatoes and carrots and boiled hamburger.  I got to watch Mr. Ed the Talking Horse and we played a game called Felix the Cat and his Magic Bag – every week it was the same and I loved it!

We grew up in Montreal. It snowed a lot and I was the one who went out with him early many winter mornings to shovel us out of the many feet of snow in our driveway. 

He was a handyman, finishing our basement in 1960's Tudor Style by himself and regularly up a ladder or under a sink. I fondly remember my Girl Guide Pack needed wooden boxes for each 'Six' to store stuff in. I was the leader of the Daisy six. I went home and asked Dad and he made all the boxes for the whole troupe. I was very proud.

For many years he volunteered with Civitan International. He recruited me to help deliver pre-ordered Xmas fruitcakes with the revenue going to a sheltered workshop which he took me to visit. That experience not only taught me a little about volunteering and accounting but most importantly the capacity of people with disabilities.

He had many interesting jobs. He was part of the design of the Montreal subway, modeled on the Paris Metro. He took me to the grand-opening and to our horror the doors closed leaving a child beside us on the train and his parent on the platform. My father took charge and the two were reunited. I also remember him teaching me that day “ Always let the people out (of the building or train) first.” Advice I live by.  

In 1973 Dad moved us to Winnipeg. He loved trains so had the romantic notion to move his family by rail across the country…in February!  Somehow our seats were double booked and we had to sit up from Montreal until North Bay - three children and a dog – before we were escorted to a different train in the middle of a cold, wintry night!  Anyhow we got to our sleeper, crashed and when we arrived in Winnipeg, the first thing we saw as we pulled into the downtown station was the Nutty Club "Can D Man".  We all wondered what kind of place we had come to.   

A few years later he became the General Manager of the Royal Canadian Mint. Being a teenager growing up in haughty River Heights I occasionally got asked what my father did for a living. I replied with a twinkle in my eye: “My father makes more money that anyone else in Western Canada.” That shut them up. 

I married and moved to Edmonton in the early 80s. Dad enjoyed coming out to visit and he always wanted to be busy and help me with the house. I needed a new deck and Dad offered to build it himself.  My daughter Stefanie’s bedroom overlooked the backyard and she recently shared how she remembered 'Grandpops' swearing the whole time.  He did like to express himself. 

Despite living in different cities he spent a lot of time with his kids and grandkids.  While I lived in Australia he learned how to use Skype so we could keep in touch. He also texted and used a tablet.  As he used to say “Not bad for an old guy!” 

He and I shared a love of coconut cream pie, strong cheeses, dogs and the ocean. We played 'Peanuts' or Punch Buggy' on long car trips and because of him I knew the make and model of most 70s cars. We spent many hours together in the waves of the Atlantic.  He couldn’t swim but he sure could float!

One of my last fond memories of Dad was spending the better part of the day touring through the Canadian Museum of Human Rights. He was very proud of it and we discussed the exhibits and their political and historical implications over a late lunch at the Pancake House in the Forks.

We didn’t always agree. He could be a curmudgeon. But he was a softy inside. When I went in his home office after his passing I found he had saved all the cards we had given him. 

These Forget-Me-Nots originated in my grandparent’s garden in Montreal, were transplanted by Dad to Winnipeg then to my home in Edmonton and this bunch is now blooming in my garden in Victoria. They will remind me of my father, whose love, spirit and influence on me and my children lives on.