The Cohen van was stopped at the doors to the M-Store, on Merivale at Meadowlands, which had formerly been called Miracle Mart. I had worked there, years ago, but this evening, I was picking up my new girlfriend, who was just finishing her shift.
When my girlfriend, who I now refer to as DW, emerged from the department store, she didn't walk to my car. Instead, she went to the driver's side of the Cohen van and spoke with the driver. I looked in my rear-view mirror but could only see the front grill and headlights of the van. Looking out my side-view mirror, I could see DW and only make out a partial shadow from within the van.
DW spoke a few words and then made her way to my car. "Who was that?" I asked as she climbed into the passenger seat.
"My dad."
I turned to look as he pulled out and drove past us. An older man waved as he passed by. It was my first encounter with Stan, my future father-in-law.
Stan passed away on Friday, November 16, at the age of 91.
Though no guy can ever be perfect for a dad's daughter, Stan was always kind to me. The first time he struck up a conversation with me, he asked, "Did you see the game last night?"
"What game?" I countered. Stan liked lots of sports, but I learned that day that hockey was, by far, his favourite. I had to gather the courage, that first time, to admit that I don't follow the game, that I wasn't much of a sports fan. It didn't stop him from continuing, "You should have seen..." and telling me about the highlights.
I listened, nodded. Over the years, I had learned to pay close attention to CBC Radio, during John Hancock's sports report, to make a mental note of the teams that played the night before, and any highlights that stood out.
When Stan would ask me, "Did you see the game last night?" I could at least engage him in the teams, the scores, and who made any headlines. Stan would fill in the gaps.
And so it went.
One of his youngest granddaughter's fondest memories is when she went with him to a Sens game.
Stan was very much a family man. Coming from a farm near Smiths Falls with eight other siblings, Stan knew hard work and the value of giving to his family. Putting himself first was something truly unfamiliar to him. He was always a "How can I help?" man.
DW and I dated for five years before we married, but Stan treated me like family long before then. I remember how happy he was on our wedding day, the proud father of the bride, and he embraced me, telling me how proud he was to have me as a son-in-law.
Stan was modest, never choosing to talk about himself, but he has had many achievements. Having worked in the construction industry, Stan helped shape Ottawa's landscape. He helped build the YMCA buildings on Argyle and the Grace Hospital, at Parkdale and Wellington. He helped build the Queensway, parts of Hwy 401, and the stretch of Regional Road 6 (Roger Stevens Drive), which cuts through the Marlborough Forest between North Gower and Smiths Falls.
Stan later worked as a mobile crane operator, and has taken down many Ottawa landmarks, such as the Capitol Theatre, part of Somerset House, and the aforementioned Grace Hospital (he put it up and took it down).
Stan even operated a crane to raise a photographer high above the RCMP musical ride. The photo that was shot later adorned the 50-dollar bill for decades to come.
Stan ran that crane well into his 80s. On his 81st birthday, Hallie Cotnam, from CBC's Ottawa Morning, interviewed him at his crane. At the time, stopping work was something that did not interest him.
Stan had been a grandfather three times over before DW and I increased the size of the family, and it was always such a joy to see Stan with all of his grandkids. All told, he has eight grand children, and no matter how far away they were, he loved them with all his heart.
When his own wife fell ill, Stan stayed by her side, visiting her in the care home almost every day for about 10 years, until she passed away.
In his final years, Stan's health waned but he never gave up. He came out for an evening with Ian Rankin, one of the only fiction writers that he read regularly. When he met Rankin for a book signing, Stan told Ian, "You know, the last time I was in this church, I got married."
Even earlier this year, Stan was still playing pool and still beating us.
I've known Stan for almost 30 years and it's going to feel strange not having him around. I sometimes feel that I saw him more frequently than I saw my own parents, and I think that goes back to his devotion to family and how he passed that on to his own kids. DW says there's so much of him in her that he'll never be far.
Stan has been so much to me but I still remember the first time I went to pick up my girlfriend from work, and this caring, loving man was there ahead of me. There were plenty of times when I would pick DW up from work, where she would call him to let him know that I would be collecting her, but he would still pull up to the M-Store, just to make sure that she was taken care of.
For him, it was no effort. Even seeing that van in the parking lot, as I would pull up, didn't bother me. He would see my car, honk his horn, wave, and make his way home. Stan, the man in the van, had done his fatherly duty.
I know that I'll be doing the same for my girls, when they are done their jobs for the evening. I'll tell them it's my fatherly duty, going back a generation.
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