Family connections and delightful discoveries

 

There are benefits to visiting my hometown on my own. Most notably, when we go down the memories rabbit hole trying to make family connections, we are all engaged in the discussion. When other family members are around for this inevitable deep dive, they can't relate as the names and faces mean absolutely nothing.

The daughter of my dad's first cousin came for an extended visit today with a box of photos and memories in hand. Edith is trying to piece together some family history and was hoping to connect the dots of some mysterious faces in old photos from the 1950s and 1960s. 

We learned that Edith's mother Gladys attended high school in Kamsack in the early 1960s, though how that happened was a bit of a mystery, as the family farm was some 25 miles southwest of town. In those days, there was no such thing as school buses to bring the country kids to town. Instead, farm students would board with family and friends who lived in Kamsack. In the case of Edith's mom, she boarded with my grandma and grandpa.

I was able to share with her a picture of that house that I had taken earlier in the day. One mystery solved.

She shared a picture of my dad from 1960, serving as best man at Eddie Senychych's wedding. Apparently, Dad was tagged for best man duties at more than several weddings in those years. Can you tell which one is my father?

I decided to go to Chester's to order pizza for dinner. We were all tired and didn't feel like cooking. As I was sitting there, a young fellow named Edward sat down at my table. Through the conversation, he shared that we was a hockey player who played with the Cote Wolves when he was younger.

"Who is your favourite NHL goalie," I asked.

"Who is YOUR favourite NHL goalie," he snapped back.

"Ken Dryden," I said, without hesitation.

"Well my favourite was Grant Fuhr," said Edward.

"You'll never guess who I was talking to just a few days ago," I said.

"Grant Fuhr?"

"You got it!" 

I grabbed my phone and produced photo evidence.

He laughed, and carried on eating his plate of French fries, like my brush with hockey royalty was an amusing novelty.

I'm constantly on the look out for familiar faces and facial features. I was at the Co-op Gas Bar for its 7 am rush. Three or four guys streamed in right after me, but they were in their early 20s and didn't inspire a single spark of recognition. They were obviously getting ready for the start of their workday with some java juice.

I decided to grab a breakfast sandwich with my coffee this morning. Mom had mentioned that the Co-op Gas Gar is a good option for some quick hot food. It wasn't bad and was certainly freshly made. 

My time in Kamsack will come to a close tomorrow. I will drive back to Watrous to stay at my brother's place before heading back to Alberta on Thursday. Heather and I have a painting workshop in the cards for Friday in High River. An open house follows on Friday and Saturday. 

"No rest for the wicked," my dad used to say.