Grandpa Moore

Fule for Thought

 

His name was Allister Weatherhead Moore, and he hated his middle name! Actually, I can understand why Allister hated his middle name, it is a strange one. He was born in Cochrane in 1913, and I think one of the ways you got a middle name was from your mother’s maiden last name. Poor Allister, he really did not like being a “Weatherhead,” although he would allow his two initials to be used, and even before the fast food chain, he was “A & W” to his friends and family. He worked for Calgary Power many years ago, and was working when the Seebe Power plant came on line.

He was lean, and he filled his days with all sorts of jobs to do, even into his 80s. He could do many things electrically, but sometimes his “repair” jobs were a little on the unusual side. In our first house he had done all his electrical checks and was determined to hang up a beautiful chime clock in the dining room. It seemed to be taking a lot longer than we thought it should and eventually, we checked on him, as he just finished the job. It was hung straight, but he had a little smile. Behind the clock were about 17 “test” holes where he had tried to find the stud in the wall! His only comment while smiling was, “how ‘bout that!” We all laughed, and I think he even blushed.

In one of our houses, we only had room for a tiny vegetable garden, but there a 10 year old Brennen and his 85 year old grandpa planted theirs. He shared his love of gardening with Brennen, taught him to not plant until June 3, to thin the carrots, and plant the seed potatoes a certain way. It was quite a sight to see them in their “working clothes!” 

Years later, near Christmas time, we were visiting the grandparents at their 1908 Cochrane house. Allister was frustrated with a toilet on the second floor that was always slow when flushing. Now you know I have no “fix-it” bone in my body, so I just did what he told me. I went with him to his garage, but I was perplexed by him getting his leaf blower. Not only was it a leaf blower about to be used to jam into the toilet, it was an electric one! I was shocked (pun intended), and I pictured one or both of us “ridin’ the lightning” (Green Mile reference)!  

I wondered: hmmm, Allister’s worked with electricity for years, he must know what he’s doing! But then again, even with a PE degree, I knew: water + electricity = BAD! I stood back from “the splash zone” as he did jam the blower end in to the toilet! Then he said to me, “now Patrick (here it comes), YOU just plug the cord into the outlet.”  

Plug the cord in??!! There was some water on the floor, an electric leaf blower was in the toilet water, and I was going to be the guy who lit up both of us! I thought about how much Breanne liked Christmas lights and how I was about to become one! I did what I was told, closing my eyes. The leaf blower came to life, and I did expect to be fried! Allister yelled as water was being blown all over him, the walls, the floor, AND the tub! I pulled out the plug, and he just smiled and said, “how ‘bout that?”

As Allister and Dolly aged, they lost many of their friends, some they had known since childhood. Allister had always told me when his friends passed away, that “pneumonia was an old man’s best friend.” He felt that was their peaceful end, that they would not suffer when it was their time. His time came in 2006 when he was 93 and hospitalized. Deb and I saw him on his last night in hospital, and he was thin and weak, but he still smiled his “Allister” smile. He actually looked childlike, as he was curled up in his bed. When it was time to go, he quietly said what he always said on our departures: “you go carefully.” 

 He passed away in the wee hours, and when we heard, we all felt lost. He had called Deb “Chicken” as a pet name as she grew up, and he also used it for Breanne. We found a picture of Breanne when she was two, walking hand in hand with Allister. On the photo, I stuck a little piece of paper to show what he might be saying. It read: “walk me to Heaven, Chicken,” and that’s where I know he went.

 

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)