A fond farewell to a father figure

I wish I was a more eloquent writer, Mr. Reid deserves the best recollection a person could give.

He wasn't my dad, but he was like a second dad to me during those awkward days of high school. You probably wonder why I still call him Mr. Reid if he was like a dad to me, but Ted just doesn't feel as respectful to me.

Countless days spent over my friend Kim's house- after school and weekends, summers and holiday breaks, Kim's parents became a second set of parents to me. I don't think they ever knew how much impact they had on my life or my views, but I credit Mr. Reid specifically with many of the qualities exhibited by the spunky independent thirty-something that writes to you now. Mr. Reid was a special man. He was funny and witty beyond his years and always kept us all on our toes. He loved his family fiercely. I had never known a love like that until I met this family. The most important thing that I learned from him was never to take myself too seriously, a lesson that I try to remind myself of often even today.

It would drive my own parents' crazy, the amount of time that I spent over at the Reid house, but things were always more relaxed there. It felt like a true home and escaped the troubles I was facing at my own house during those days. No matter who you were or where you came from, you were accepted. Often you would be challenged in some quick witted fashion, but the more Mr. Reid teased you the more he liked you. I think he either liked me a lot or I was a really easy target. Probably a little of both.

He would take us out on the boat all the time in the summer- tubing, water-skiing, swimming. I swear he would be having as much fun trying to knock us off the tubes as we would grasping on for what sometimes felt like dear life. I have so many vivid memories of being on 'Bapa's Boap', a couple of those memories involved me skinning or almost killing myself either water-skiing or tubing. Fun summer getaways up to Higgins Lake for a week or so with the family, and again teaching me humility and to not take things so personally when Ted (dy) teased me (which he did often, and still does). All were great times.

Mr. Reid would always want to know what was new with us, and he genuinely wanted to know. It wasn't to keep tabs or anything (at least it never felt that way), he just always showed honest concern for everyone around him. He had a gift for making someone comfortable, and he always seemed to put me at ease which made talking much easier. He really helped me through some challenging times with my parents, and also with other challenges I encountered in life. He was one of the first people to tell me not to get tied down early, to enjoy life, not take things so seriously, and settle later when I'm ready. It was invaluable advice at the time even though as a teenager I thought I had it all figured out (little did I know). :o) The last time I saw him, he asked if I was married yet, and I told him I was still too young. He smiled.

I wish that I had stopped over more after college and through the years after. I just got busy with life though as we all do. I would often think of his quips and one liners though. Thoughts of him and his wit actually inspired me to go through Second City's improv classes, though I don't think he ever knew that.

In the past few years, Mr. Reid's health has taken a brutal beating and declined fairly rapidly, though he fought to stay alive every step of the way. He outlived several predictions by doctors.  But most importantly, he got to see so many monumental events in his family, it is truly a blessing.

I'm really going to miss Mr. Reid. I hope he knows how much he was loved, and how much he touched the lives of those around him. He was one of a kind. An amazing father, a great husband, an awesome grandfather, and a wonderful friend. I am truly blessed to have known him and to have had him in my life.

To Diane, Kim, Joel, Ted(dy), Chelsea, Teddy, Gabby, Grace, and Lexie: I love you all so much, my heart is with you through this difficult time. May your knowledge of his final peace outweigh the sadness in your hearts. He will always be with us all.

Grandma McD

This was my dad's mom after she remarried and was widowed for the second time. We used to go visit when I was a small child and sometimes she would come out and stay with us. It was always interesting visiting Grandma McD. She didn't like children very much, but she seemed to like me ok. My cousins weren't treated nearly as well as I as by her which I am thankful for I guess. I can't honestly say I liked her all that much though either. She was a pretty hard core alcoholic actually. She would come out to stay with my parents and I and have my mom wait on her hand and foot.

There is a story that one time when my 3 cousins went up to her front door and knocked and she turned them away. Can you imagine turning away your own grandchildren? I believe the deal was she told them that they could come to the house when ever the curtains were drawn open... and wouldn't you know from then on she kept them closed... bizarre really.

Anyways, the house she lived in was the same one my dad and Aunt grew up in. It was a pretty small house, 2 bedrooms and an attic with a back closed in porch room. I remember going over there as a small child to visit. She had a lot of stuff, but my favorite things that she had were the bobble head dolls she had on her desk. I used to play with those every time I went there. I believe they belonged to my Grandfather before he passed. I do sometimes wonder what ever happened to those bobble heads. I wonder if my cousins ended up with them after she passed away.

One time when she came out to stay with us, she was sitting at the kitchen table drinking, mom was cooking something, and I was playing on the kitchen floor. I think I was about 3. She asked, "Joellyn, can you go get my cigarettes for me please?" I hated smoke with a passion and both my parents smoked as well. I would pretend to be choking out in the backseat on car trips I despised it so much. I did like the case my Grandma kept her cigarettes in though. It was like a metal fabric, and was fun to play with. Well, I didn't mean to be as utterly defiant as I ended up, but I looked er straight in the eye and said, "No." My mother was mortified, but at the same time she was kind of hiding a smile. I think that it's still one of my mom's favorite stories.

Grandma McD passed away when I was 7 years old from a heart attack. I remember when I found out. I was at Brownies and my mom came and pulled me out. Grandma had a heart attack while she was on the phone with a friend and passed away right there in her living room chair. It was my first experience with death. I remember being at the funeral home during viewings and wanting to wear a special outfit that she had gotten for me. I don't remember crying, but I did miss her. I would have liked to know her now just to see how she was through grown up eyes.

We had to clean out her house after a couple weeks and my parents and my aunt and uncle were fixing the place up to rent out. They did a ton of work on it. My mom and aunt steamed off something like 15 layers of wallpaper in order to prep the walls to paint. The only thing I got from my grandma was her bedroom set which actually lives at my parent's house. So basically, I got nothing from her. My cousins and aunt got most all of her jewelry and my mom got some, Grandma liked to collect costume jewelry, and I have no idea what ever became of those bobble heads.

Blue Shag Carpeting

The first memory that I can recall is crawling on blue shag carpeting. Now, this is a disputed memory because my mom says there is no way that I could possibly remember that, but when I was a baby I saw things from a unique perspective. Most babies when they get to the age and motor skill level to go mobile take to their hands and knees and begin to creep and crawl. Me? Not so much. When I decided it was time to move around of my own volition, I put my head on the floor got up on my hands and feet and pushed forward scooting my head across the floor. So, when I say I have memories of blue shag carpeting, it’s because my head was in contact with it and that is what I was closest to. I don't know if it gave me a headache or worse- rug burn on my forehead, but it was the way I decided was best to get around at the time (I'm very happy a permanent bald spot didn't result. :o)). The dispute of my first memory that I can recall lasted for a few years until one year I found a picture of me when I was a baby- propped up on a pillow while sitting on… you got it… blue shag carpeting. It came out that my parents had blue shag carpeting in their Southfield home, which we moved out of a year after I was born. Oh to have some validity of what I thought I remembered! I was very relieved that my upside down view of the carpeting wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. I think the thing that got me about the dispute is that my mother stood against me on a clear memory I had with such vigor, and over something so funny and kind of trivial. Being told, "No you don't remember that, there was no blue shag carpeting. You don't know what you are talking about." instead of just going along with it in front of the company we had over during he first discussion.  Unfortunately, this establishes the state of my relationship between myself and my mother quite clearly.