Three cheers for Canadian Universal Health Care!!

Tyra, sorry to disappoint you by not having you in my blog lately! Thanks for your comments on my last post, the kind words and prayers! Thank Gods too for our Canadian universal health care! Check this out!

I saw my family physician after about 8 days of symptoms as mentioned in my previous post, and within 2 weeks ( No long waiting period as rumors have it) I was having a CT that didn't cost me a cent nor did I need the approval for that CT from a "for profit" insurance company!!! My Dr ( a medical speciallist) who examined me was the one to determine that I needed a CT!!! Go figure!!! The government didn't decide nor did the for profit ( that's money making, in plain speak)insurance company what was medically necessary!! Anyway, it didn't cost me a cent, I had it in a timely manner and again thank gods it wasn't anything life threatening or serious.

If it was though, I know I'd have the best care from one of the best oncology hospitals in Canada within days.....for free. No declaring bankrupsy or loss of home due to those high medical bills for this Canadian!! Our family of 4 does pay a tax of about $95/month for that health care. Over the years my families incidental medical needs of approximately 1 CT (me), 1 MRI ( child), 2 babies including monthly prenatal exams, ( a paid maternity leave of 1yr so I could recover and be a full time mom for their first yrs and my husband could choose to take a month of that paid "paternity leave" to get to know his new children without loss of job or income too!!!) a few ER visits for heart palpitations ( hubby), car accidents for xrays and stitches ( ugh, hubby again!), cardiac monitoring, cardiac stress testing, asthma attacks ( child), pediatric allergy speciallist visits for life threathening allergies, stitches and x rays, you know, typical family medical needs over the course of 14 yrs. It wouldn't matter whether I was the CEO of a company or a single mom working as a waitress. I would have the same treatment options, for the same amnt of $$. It also would cost a family of 4 no more than $95/month if Gods forbid one of them had cancer, and another had a heart attack with the worry, and they got into a car accident and needed ongoing phsyical therapy following that accident. I'm Canadian and under our health care act I am no more deserving of the best health care than the next person be he/she homeless, alchoholic,drug addict, fashion model, CEO, banker, starving artist. I only wish everyone had this right to health.

It's NOT a tooma!

Phew! I had a CT on Wednesday and an appointment with a neurologist yesterday and the neurologist is 98% sure I have BPV. .........

Why do they do that? All these initials?
MI, STD, BPV, IV.............geesh!
I'm a nurse and I have to admit even I wasn't too sure what BPV was.....at first all panicky that it was an STD or some sort of CVA or latent symptoms from the MVA I had a few years back. So I asked him about the CT and he mumbled " it was normal" , almost with a "pfft, relax!" tone of voice.

Relax????? Buddy, I had brain tumor on the brain for 2 1/2 weeks!! I have to admit though that I had a few really good scenarios going through my head....kinda of similar to "Beaches" or "Terms of Endearment". Ya, in my little "mind movies" people were really, really nice to me and some were soooooo sorry for how they treated me in the past!! In one I went to Greece with a bunch of girlfriends......my hubby and kids were looked after by the whole community while I was gone so I needn't worry.

So really I guess despite thinking I had a brain tumor I'm a positive thinker. Never in my brain tumor mind movies was I actually very sick ( nor did I look sick other than the 20lbs I lost which is actually a good thing, I looked great!). I mean, I went to Greece with a bunch of girlfriends and sang the entire Mama Mia soundtrack running up and down cliffs! I gave speeches at schools about living life to the fullest. I was busy helping my fellow nurses on the chemo ward ( a model patient). Never was I sick, in pain or looking anything but the best! So ya, I was a positive thinker. I WAS scared but didn't let my fear get the best of me!

So what's BPV you ask? It's Benign Positional Vertigo cause by some particles moving around my inner ear that aren't supposed to be moving around that part of my inner ear. Those particles are telling my brain that I'm spinning when all I'm actually doing is lying down trying to sleep, or tilting my head really far to the side while trying to read titles of books in a library......when that happens I grab my husband so I don't fall off the rapidly spinning bed or I grab at the book shelf, toppling over several books annoying the librarian and embarrassing my kids .

So that he's 100% sure I am booked for an MRI in a couple of weeks. What else could it be?????? CVA? MS? IIP? HPV? hee hee hee.......

Feelin' the buzz....

So, I've been experiencing a wierd vertigo thing for about 8 days now. Not necessarily a "bad" feeling mind you. Sort of like the good BC bud I experimented with in my younger years without the hysterical laughter and munchies. Good for my waistline, bad for doing my job!
It all started , like I said, 8 days ago with me getting up to go pee in the morning and finding myself half running, half stumbling sharply to the left!
The rest of the day wasn't so sharply shifted yet still spent in bed, a spinning bed, feeling , well....high and very very tired. It's eased off a bit, but am still dizzy and clumsy.
Now, remember, I'm a nurse and kinda know stuff so of course I did a little "reasearch" of my own and kinda sorta had myself a little freaked out by MS. Well I went to the Dr yesterday and after explaining my symptoms.....I might add that I mentioned the BC bud feeling and was met with a blank stare ( nerdy med school type!), she ruled out MS. Something to do with my age and having the first every symptoms....like I was WAY tooo OLD to be having the first symptoms!!!! Thanks, I think!?

So now I have to go see a neurologist and have a head and neck CT!!! A couple of bad things really. First of all head CT can mean they're looking for a brain tumor!!!! Another bad thing is my neurologist just may be a terrorist......Al Hussain..... That's his name!!!! ( I know, I know....soooooo politically incorrect but I kinda thought it would get a chuckle!!)
Anyway, I'm sure I got some wierd virus from my recent foreign travel to .....Vancouver when I was there in July..........or......my other exotic trip to Saskatchewan so I'm only slightly nervous......and maybe a little paranoid.......due to that BC bud again!! So, I'll keep ya posted and if anyone has any good and funny " stoned" stories they'd like to share please do so!!!

Oh, if only SHE'D blog- revisited

Alas! Another response to my email from yet another " non-blogger" who should definitely blog!!
I guess I should thank them for not having a blog- I have material!!
This one is especially funny for those who grew up in Edmonton and have visited our so called zoo over the years.
Enjoy!


Now – as for your inability to blog the intimate details of your life – would you consider an anonymous memoir, instead? Something like “The Sordid Affairs of ‘K’.” Because really, it’s just selfish to keep the hilarity of your observations under wraps. My personal stuff is much less riveting, more dull and domestic. IF I was writing a blog this week, it would perhaps be something like this:

THE DAY THEY MADE US GO TO THE ZOO – PART DEUX

Okay...for all of you who are not Barbara...there’s a prologue. Several years ago, seeking some functional balance of visiting and responsibly caring for my children (only Steven and Grace, at the time), Barbara and I decided that we would go to the zoo. There, we reasoned, the kids would be enchanted by the poo-flinging primates while we could stand behind the stroller, chatting happily as we tend to do. It didn’t quite work out. It was drizzling just a little, if I remember correctly. Sort of chilly. Grace, at the tender age of about two, had already mastered the art of full-frontal-bitchery. Steven was no match, but still a game competitor, bringing his whiny little ass technique to the playing field. Barbara and I did not, therefore, achieve the pleasant visit that we set out to have. What we did get out of the deal was a photo of the two kids, posing in the mouth of the concrete whale sculpture, wearing soggy rain jackets and grim expressions that captured the misery of the outing. We titled it “The Day They Made Us Go to the Zoo.”
But time heals all wounds. Or wounds all heels. Or, at the very least, makes you forget the lessons that you swore you’d never forget. And so, a few weeks back, I mentioned to Barbara that I was planning on taking the kids to the zoo. “Your kids hate the zoo...remember?” she said, helpful friend that she is. I did remember, then, but thought that things would be different now. They are older. More thoughtful. More interested in animals that aren’t animated. So we picked a nice day when there was no rain in sight...just a nice, oppressive, 30 degrees and a blazing sun hanging in the sky...and WE WENT TO THE ZOO. AGAIN.
It is my theory that Valley Zoo started losing its charm the day they took “Storyland” out of its name. It has since been like a poem without a theme, or a balloon without air. Pointless, at best; soulless, at its worst. This is obvious the minute you walk through the gate and face what was once the “Three Little Pigs” scene and is now...a gerbil ranch. Seriously, it’s a couple bales of hay, a few pieces of PVC pipe for rambunctious games of hide-and-seek, and about a hundred rodents. “What’s wrong with that one?” asked William, pointing to a grotesquely pregnant female. I looked around and noticed that several other loose-lady gerbils were in similar shape. The sign on the fence that informs people of each animal’s status (extinct in the wild/endangered/etc.) classified them as “thriving.” No shit. We moved on.
We saw porcupines. We saw ducks. We saw roughly 2,000 lemurs. They actually have a habitat for the oh-so-exotic “crow.” Perhaps they should look at renaming to something along the lines of “The Quotidian Valley Zoo.” Or, “The Prosaic Valley Zoo.” I wanted to find the habitats for “The Common Household Mouse,” and the “Garbage-Eating Magpie,” but the kids wanted to go to the petting zoo. So we went. It was there that I really bemoaned the fact that I had forgotten my camera at home (alas, there will be no follow-up photo in the whale’s mouth). Eagerly awaiting your child’s petting at the zoo are roughly a half-dozen insane-looking chickens and two goats. One stood by the far fence, rolling a threatening, glassy eye in the direction of any child brave enough to approach. Few did. They were all opting for goat-number-two, who could have passed for dead, save the slight, tell-tale rise and fall of respiration. That shallow in-and-out, that was the only sign of life in this goat, who lay limply on its side in the middle of the dirt yard, assaulted by eager-to-pet children and the crazy, wandering chickens. As Natalie went bouncing over to maul this sad creature, Dennis looked worried about the kind of diseases that jump species. He asked if I thought it had expired. “No,” I said. “It’s just given up its soul.”
We moved on.
We discovered that the train, the highlight of every visit to the zoo since I was nine years old, is gone, baby, gone. The tracks are torn up, there’s a new building housing a few hundred of the ubiquitous lemurs built right over where the tracks used to be. So it looks pretty permanent. In its place, they offer “the new, ELECTRIC train!” which is roughly the size of a Tonka truck and wouldn’t amuse anyone over the age of two. But we bought ride tickets on the way in, and would be fucked if we didn’t get our money’s worth. So we forced Grace and the twins onto the merry-go-round. We would have made Steven suffer as well, because we’re all about fair treatment, but they won’t let you on the damn thing if you’re “taller than this line.” And he was. So we watched William and Natalie, bored but willing to endure the few minutes that it took, and Grace, who was clearly in HELL. Again, I itched for my camera, because the expression on her face was just about beyond description. It was rage, and humiliation, and fear of being spotted by someone she knew, all rolled up into one big facial stew. Her body language said, I am so cool, and so far above this. In fact, I am above everyone. It is criminal that I am forced to be with these people, let alone on this childish contraption. But it was a hard pose to pull off as she went up-and-down-up-and-down on her little pink horsie.
We moved on.
It was decided that the rest of the ride tickets would be used to let Will and Nat ride ponies until they puked. So we set off in search of the pony rides, situated in a far, far corner of the property that you just about need a pony ride to get to. On the way there, William finally saw something that excited him. “Hey!” he yelled. “It’s a Coke machine!!!” He actually went up and stroked it. We are mean parents who wouldn’t give the kids any change to plug into the thing (if only it had accepted ride tickets...), but we did all stop for a moment to marvel over the logistics of a big machine that was really just by a path in the midst of a field, apparently wired into Mother Earth herself. Then we saw other man-made structures jutting out of the meadow. “Bathrooms!” someone yelled, as we happened upon a row of ominously leaning porta-potties. “Sshhhh!” said Steven, “I’m going to pet it!” And he made a big show of sneaking up on the potty’s blind side, then reaching out, in a real Mutual of Omaha moment, to gently stroke it. Finally, we made it to the pony rides, where the twins each took two turns on a beaten-looking nag named “Sage.” I spent almost the entire time considering the posted rules sign, wondering why they wouldn’t let you ride a horse if you were wearing a thong. Eventually, at the end, I realized that they were referring to flip-flops.
I am telling you all of this because you are my memory-keepers. There is no photographic proof, this time...so I thought that a detailed written account was in order. In a couple of years, when I say, “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to take the kids to the zoo?” I now expect seven emails or phone calls in response. “Remember...your kids hate the zoo,” is what you have to say.
Of course, I’ll probably go anyway.

Jo-Anne

Oh if only she'd blog!

I've been trying to convince some good friends of mine to blog. I recently sent them all an email with links to good blogs and plenty of encouragement to join in the fun. This is a response from one of my friends .....I HAD to share.

My dear Dilys, et al

The reason why I cannot write a blog is that I do not want my kids or parents to know what kind of stuff I think about. This is, I think, something you could more fully appreciate if I revealed to you the mental email I was composing to you yesterday morning. It was about Drunken Sex.

I'll spare you the details, but the gist of it was that I woke up the next morning (at my house, thank you very much!) with the worst hangover I can remember since I was in my 20s. The TV remote was on the floor in the bathroom. The few inches of wine I hadn't managed to consume were drying in my glass on the kitchen counter, the wine bottle itself laying on its side like it died of exhaustion. There was an unnatural amount of candle wax spilled on the deck by the hot tub. I can't explain the bird feathers. Worse, there was a large puddle that looked like blood. For one full second, I thought we sacrificed a goat. But it was just clothes. From the neighbour's across the alley.

Kidding. The clothes were Wayne's and mine. I don't recall shedding them. My last clear thought is coming from dinner with Barb (where we consumed a bottle of wine) to discover the back yard completely lit with tea candles. They outlined the edge of the patio, went up both sides of the steps to the hot tub, and lined the ledge of the tub itself. There were candles on the patio table, and on the lawnchair side table. It was beautiful. Magical. Wayne had a glass of wine poured for me, ready. Music played. He looked very handsome.

So I decided I could allow myself to take a recess from being magnanimously distant. This was my most recent response to his latest screw-up. (As Wounded Wife responses go, it is pretty good: lets you talk and behave very politely, while you are letting him know superior you are.) I think another release factor was that, at dinner earlier, I had become Benign Buddha Karen. Loving all life, filled with compassion, profound spiritual awareness--you know the mood. Two glasses of wine, and Benign Buddha tells Wounded Wife to let the past be past, and become One with the present. Three glasses of wine and candles look like glowing love fairies.

Why is it that you wake up earliest on the days you feel worst? My theory is that your cosmically connected Inner Self wants to take advantage of the teaching moment. As I wandered around the house that morning, I really felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. It surprises me now to think how reasonable it seemed--even for a moment--that we had sacrificed a goat. Reason asserting itself was not that we would never have done such a thing, but that we didn't own a goat.

These are things my parents and children need never know. But if I was blogging, I would entitle the whole thing "Why You Should Eat Lunch Before Having Wine with Dinner". It's always ultimately about food, if you ask me.

xxoo
Karen

P.S. Does anyone know how to get massage oil stains out of carpet?

It was THIS big!

One of my top 5 favorite movies of all times is Big Fish. I think I love it so much because I relate so well to the main character.......I tend to exaggerate a bit......just a little bit.

This movie is about a man who is dying and his son is visiting him. The Dad shares these amazing stories of his life but the son doesn't believe them. He thinks his Dad is lying and he's pretty ticked off because he believes that all his life his Dad has been lying to him . He just wants to know his Dad and he keeps getting all these BIG FISH stories and wacky wierd stories of events and characters that are too wierd to be true. The Dad dies and low and behold all the characters from the stories his Dad told are at the funeral. Maybe not quite as the son pictured them.....but they're all there! The stories were all TRUE!!

I absolutely love telling stories. I love telling stories of events of my life or other peoples lives for that matter!. I reinact events, I use foreign accents and just the right facial expressions to get the story across......and yes....sometimes I exaggerate a little bit. Lately my kids have been busting me and kind of wrecking my stories. I'll have a captive audience of friends.....I'll be in the middle of a story....they're all watching me, hardly breathing, looking shocked, or amused or whatever I want them to be when right in the middle one of my kids would go " No you didn't. " or " There weren't that many" or " They didn't say it like that"......ARGH!!!!

I've actually had to sit my kids down and tell them to stop doing that.

"But Mommy, you're lying!" they exclain loudly, tears collecting at the corners of their soulfull eyes. ( see? Doesn't that sound better?)

"Not really lying," I reply." I'm embellishing and improving the story.You see, there's a story and then there's a STORY. People want the STORY."

Don't get me wrong......I really don't lie. I tell the story and sometimes it just seems exaggerated by my sheer enthusiasm. My enthusiasm for telling the story sometimes makes the story better. I mean really would you like to hear about how it was raining and I forgot to close the car windows or would you rather hear about how it was absolutely pouring, in fact it seemed the rain was horizontal it was so windy. I heard the snap of branches just over my head on several occasions and the kids were pale despite their summer tans. We were almost at the door when I remembered I had left the car windows open. God help me, I had to go back! Just then there was a blinding light and instantly the deafening crack of thunder....simultaneous which meant the strike of lightening was within feet of our car........anyway, you get my drift?

Now my kids would go....." we weren't pale........it wasn't simultaneous....blah blah blah"

I think I've had a pretty interesting life and I do have some good stories. I just make them better for YOU the listener.

Wedding Season

Summertime and the livin' is easy......

When I was in my 20's, ( which was, I admit 20 years or so ago)starting around April I spent almost every 2nd weekend at a wedding until mid September! Summer was definitely wedding season and I started shopping for wedding gifts at Boxing Day sales in preparation!

Two springs ago, while driving the kids somewhere, my 10 year old daughter stated that she had never been to a wedding! She sounded sad and in all honesty I was sad for her! Weddings are exciting for a 10 year old girl. The bride, the fancy dresses, the dancing.......but alas, no one's doing it anymore!!!

We have neices and nephews at that "marriage age" but they're living together......no weddings.

I told her that if she didn't get to go to a wedding sometime this summer we'd crash one!! Wouldn't you know it ( to prove that what you think about you bring about!) about 3 weeks later, we get an invitation to a wedding!!

A gay wedding!!! Gay marriage was just legallized in Alberta and two of my friends were going to be the first!!!

Imagine my delight when the conversation went like this......

Me " Hey guess what? We just got an invitation to a wedding!!"

My kids " Yippee!!"

Me " Um....this wedding is going to be a bit different though"

Kids " Why?"

Me " Well, it's two boys getting married"

Kids " And?....."

Me " Well, that's a little different"

Kids " Is there going to be a dance?"

Me " ya"

Kids " Yippee!!"

Yup, they were excited to be going to a wedding! They didn't seem at all phased by the gay part. To them it was two people getting married....it was just a party celebrating a marriage!

It was great! No different from many of the weddings I had been to. There was a lovely ceremony, a great buffet and a dance to follow! Mom of the groom cried, uncle of the other groom got too drunk! There were neices and nephews and brothers and sisters and gramma's and grandpa's and friends!

The speeches were great. A hilarious one about how the groom chose the perfect time to come out of the closet......at the moment when his brother phoned home from a Mexican jail! His parents couldn't get too mad at him then!!

A touching one where one of the grooms tearfully thanks his "stand in parents" for being so supportive and being there for him. His own missionary parents absent on this special day.

The kids had a blast, hubby and I had a blast and we all spoke often about how much fun it was.....and how "normal" it was. Really, a wedding is a wedding.

Hard to Believe

Just over a year ago our good friends and neighbour's 6 yr old son Jake was hit by a truck and killed while coming home from school. This tragic event happened just a few blocks from our homes.

I will never forget that day for as long as I live nor will I drive past that corner, as I do every day, without thinking of it.

Within hours of the accident there were flowers, balloons and stuffed teddy bears placed at the corner signpost. In the end there were more than 200 teddy bears donated to the local children's hospital. One stranger from our community built a little cross with some kind words carved on it. Another stranger from the community drew a charcoal sketch of Jake and affixed it to the street post. At Christmas time, our family left a little tiny Christmas tree and a small stuffed snowman. At halloween our two families went trick or treating together as we have for years.....this year we made a stop at the memorial and each child gave "Jake" some goodies from their goodie bags.

Our friends Mike and Jill have been keeping their son's memorial small and tasteful. They themselves tape a small vase to the sign post and fill it with artificial flowers. When others in the community add something like a poem, a picture or a balloon, Mike or Jill take it home to put in their memory chest so that it doesn't become a distraction or a hazaard to drivers.

All in all it's a small, pretty spot where a horrible tragic event occured.This event rocked our community. It's not just the family that goes to the memorial. It's a place where strangers have placed poems or flowers because you can't just go to their house, knock on the door and say " Here, I was feeling bad so I wrote this poem!". Instead people are able to anonymously show their grief and support to a member of the community.

A couple of weeks ago Mike was driving by and he noticed everything was taken down and a cardboard box was sitting by the signpost. Their flowers and vase were in the box with a note that said " could you please stop putting flowers here. When my wife and daughter go by it makes them too sad." There was no name signed to the note.

The next day after much thought, Mike put the vase and flowers back on the signpost and a day later someone once again put them in a cardboard box. During these few days, the driver of the vehicle was acquitted of all charges and we celebrated Jakes 8th birthday, an emotional and difficult couple of weeks for the family so Mike put the flowers back in the vase, and back on the signpost.

The next day they were gone, no cardboard box either. The person took everything.!!

You know, I, my husband and my kids need those flowers there. Our community of friends needs those flowers there. I ran to that spot a year ago with my nurse brain running through basic first aid..... yet I came upon our little Jake lying on the street with 5 paramedics doing CPR and advanced resuscitative efforts to save his life. I drive past that corner at least once a day and like seeing some flowers and the odd balloon thank you.

Who does this guy think he is? So, his wife and daughter are saddened by the flowers? There's a big sign in the shape of a coffin that says "FATALITY" on the top of the sign put there by the City.....and THAT doesn't make them sad??? If anything, those flowers make a driver SLOW DOWN because they say...someone died on this street corner.

I'm flabbergasted. I don't get some people.

An honorable man

After my Dad's passing in April, the Edmonton Journal ran an article about my Dad. Here it is.

Fine singer passed up career to be near his family
Glyn Williams could have travelled world, but cherished home life
Don Retson
Journal Staff Writer
Edmonton
Edmonton's music scene was abuzzz in 1966 when Glyn Williams received a dream offer to join the world-renowned Roger Wagner Chorale on a tour of the United States.
It was a terrific opportunity that offered Mr. Williams- the first professsional opera baritone in this city- a chance to become internationally known.
A family member recalls that chorale music director Roger Wagner, who had met Mr. Willams at a workshop in Calgary, applied all the presure he could to get him to accept a lead role in the six-month tour, which opened at Carnegie Hall.
Mr. Williams thanked Wagner kindly, but resisted the tantalizing offer. "He chose to turn this down because it would have meant being away from his family for extended times" recalls Ken Smith, Mr. Williams' brother-in-law. "He loved his family more than his job or his music."
A humble mand blessed with an incredible voice, Glyn E. Williams died of cancer on April 14. He was 79.
"Glyn Williams was truly one of the finest vocal talents that his city has ever produced," said former CBC-TV producer Armand Baril.
Baril recalls the official opening of CBXT-TV Edmonton on Nov. 7, 1961, when a live concert from the jubilee Auditorium was broadcast nationally on CBC-TV. As producer-director, Baril said he shared the excitement of that gala event that featured various local musical talents, including Mr. Willams.
"When Glyn started to sing," said Baril, "it was clear to everyone across the nation and in the concert hall that here was a magnificent voice destined to go far".
Edmonton Opera's resident baritone in the late 1950's and early 1960's, Mr Williams did appear occasionally as a guest solosit in the U.S., such as at the Seattle Worlds Fair in 1961 and the Welsh Singing Festival in San Fransisco.
Betty Mae, his wife of 56 years and a talented musician in her own right, would play for her husband whenever he didn't have an orchestra to back him up.
"We were a team," she said of her husband, whom, she added, also had a great talent for leaving people in stitches with his wicked sense of humour. "He didn't tease or he didn't make fun of anybody else,"she said. "He was just witty."
Despite his many opportunities to go on to the world stage, Mr. Williams chose to remain here with his family, where he performed major roles with Edmonton Opera, Oratorio, the concert stage and radio and TV.
In a Journal aricle in 1966, then music critic Ann Burrows said Mr. Williams' invitation to join the Roger Wagner Chorale on tour was an honour and that " no local singer is more deserving of such an excellent professional opportunity."
Born in Vancouver in 1929, Glyn's family moved to Edmonton when he was very young. After graduating from high school, he got a job with Imperial Oil in 1949, staying with them until his retirement in 1987.
He met Betty Mae when they were both participating in an amateur variety show which was put on for several years. In proposing, Mr Williams got down on one knee, giving Betty Mae both an orchid and an engagement ring. They were married in 1952.
Blessed with a beautiful baritone voice, Mr. Williams sang in the Knox Metropolitan Choir for 45 years. His love of music led him into the professional opera society of Edmonton. He participated in its first production of Madame Butterfly, playing the role of Sharpless. He was in several other operas over the years and had the major role of Marcello in La Boheme. This success led him to star in a locally produced TV variety show on CBC Edmonton which ran for 2 1/2 years.
A great family man, MR. Williams would attend almost every sporting event or concert that his children were involved in.
At his recent memorial service, grandson David Donnelly said Mr. Williams was also proud of all seven of his grandchildren. "Grandpa gave us confidence to succeed in whatever we wanted, " Donnelly said. "He showed us that we can do anything we set our minds to."
Besides Betty Mae, Mr. Williams is survived by daughters Judith and Dilys and his son Richard.

Happy Father's Day to an amazing Dad.