In memory of Grandpa

This post is likely not of much interest to my readers, so feel free to skip if you like. I'm preparing some information for my extended family and thought I'd add it to the blog.

Today is the 123rd anniversary of my maternal grandfather's birth. Born in Huron County, Ontario, John W. Stewart was the fourth of nine children born to Hugh and Elizabeth Stewart. For some reason, he wasn't given a middle name, just an initial. 

The entire family moved to Bratt's Lake, Saskatchewan in 1912. His father was a grain buyer at a grain elevator nearby. There were several elevators operating at the time, and I'm not certain which company he worked for.

Most of the following information is taken from a history of the family published in the town's history book.

When Grandpa was old enough to enlist, he followed his older brother to Vancouver to join the Northwest Mounted Police, however unlike Alex, Grandpa decided it wasn't for him. He had been assigned to the docks in Vancouver, and when he received word that his father had been badly injured in an accident, it was a good excuse to buy his way out of the service and he returned to Saskatchewan. 

While working as an orderly in the Weyburn Mental Hospital, he met Mary Jordan and the two were married in Oct. 1927. Nan was a nurse working at the Weyburn General Hospital at the time. After they married, the couple moved to Saskatoon. Work was difficult to find, so Grandpa worked as a taxi driver and Nan cooked at a restaurant.

Their first child, my mother, was born in Saskatoon in Dec. 1928. The small family planned to move to a homestead near Snowden, Saskatchewan in 1930, but spent the winter in a rental house in Nipawin, where their second child was born. That spring, the family headed for the homestead where the land had to be cleared for planting. The logs were used to build a small barn and a one roomed house. Two more children were born while they lived there, the last in a nearby town hospital. 

In 1935, Grandpa had had enough of farming and moved his family to Nipawin. He occupied himself by hauling grain for local farmers, sold lumber on consignment in the cities for local planers, and hauled firewood into town for winter heating. Later, he purchased a truck, built a gravel box and went into road construction. During the war years, Nan went back to work as nurse at the local hospital, as Grandpa wasn't well and they needed the income.

Grandpa and Nan, along with the assistance of their children and a family friend, built a house in Nipawin. Initially the family camped out in the garage, and moved into the unfinished house in the fall. A ladder was used to climb to the second floor, and if one looked down while climbing, they'd see clear through to the basement.

I assume, some time after the house was finished his parents lived there too. His mother passed away in 1944, and his father in 1949. I recall my mother telling me her grandmother was bedridden in an upstairs bedroom before she passed. 

By 1956, their children were grown and living away from home and the couple decided to try the oil patch in Alberta. Grandpa bought a water truck and they stayed there for 11 years. (This is a point I don't agree with. I started school in 1965 and I recall walking to and from their house for lunch each day until I was in Grade 3.)

Grandpa continued to work for a number of years as a gas jockey for a couple of car dealerships. Sadly, he suffered a stroke in 1971, and when Nan passed away suddenly in May 1972, our family moved from the farm to town to live with him for several months. He had several more strokes, and due to the level of care required he was moved to the nursing home less than a year later. He passed away in July 1976.

All of this information tells you what Grandpa did, but not much about who he was. I was only 17 when he passed away, but I have early memories of him. When we were children, he and Nan used to come to the farm most Sunday afternoons for dinner. Grandpa always called us kids, rats and I took to calling him mouse as I got older. Somehow I thought that was funny, :p. 

After dinner, Grandpa always took a nap on the couch - I think it was his way of getting out of helping with the clean up of the kitchen. Heaven help the child who disturbed his sleep. Once awake, he and Nan would head back into town. I don't recall him every playing with us and there was never a hug. In fact, neither he nor Nan were demonstrative, even with their own children.

Grandpa didn't seem to keep a job very long throughout his life, always chasing a new venture, and his time in the oil patch - however long that was - would have been unusual for him. There are family rumours (not confirmed) that at one point, my mother was supporting her parents when she got her teaching certificate. I do know Grandpa and Nan, when they left for Alberta, had divided the house into apartments that were let out. Before that, my mom and dad lived with them for a period of time before we moved to the farm. There was still one apartment on the main floor that became my parents bedroom when we moved there so mom could care for her dad.

Grandpa wasn't necessarily a "fun" grandparent. He certainly never played a game with us, but he was a constant in our lives. He liked to tease us and we could count on a Christmas gift of a $2 bill.  Sadly, after suffering a number of strokes, he became cantankerous and would yell at us for "making tracks" in his carpet. However, we had the whole upstairs of the house in town to ourselves so could avoid him when he was in a bad mood. 

By the time he passed away, his dementia was so severe he no longer remembered any of his family. He often thought mom was Nan, and would ask her "who the hell are those kids" pointing to the photos of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren on the dresser in his nursing home room. Yet, he could remember in great detail things that had happened back in the '30's and 40's. He'd often tell mom that he'd been out all night working on one project or another. I visited the nursing home once about a year before he passed away, and found it so disturbing I didn't return. 

In any event, he was a big part of my early childhood, and I often wish we would have had a few more years to get to know one another.

I believe this photo would have been taken in the late 60's. He definitely was a dapper fellow.