Freelance Reporter, Storyteller, and Photojournalist. Author of memoirs and contemporary romance. Former Edmonton Journal figure skating reporter, Edmonton Shaw TV broadcaster, and 680 CJOB (Winnipeg) reporter and weekend anchor.
My frosted side includes pageantry, modelling, acting, and sometimes figure skating.
On December 2, 1984, my Gigi Karatchuk died at the age of 67. Baba died two years before him when I was six years old. I always understood death, but trying to process grief and primary school math is complex. Decades later, we lost our maternal grandparents, and those emotions resurfaced.
Losing grandparents is difficult, and it’s unique for each person. There isn’t a time limit because grief shouldn’t end. You will forever feel the loss when there’s an empty chair. You will have your moments and memories. Embrace your loss. And never be afraid to cry.
My Gigi Karatchuk died on December 2, 1984 at 67 years old, and Baba died also at 67 years old on October 12, 1982. My older sister is the one wearing the striped shirt, and I’m the one sucking my thumb. Photo, 1980
“Grandparents are only with us part-time.”
That was the gist of a late-80s MTS commercial.
As young grandchildren, we’re fortunate to remember and make memories with our grandparents. When our grandparents are still with us in our teen years, or our 20s, 30s, or 40s – we believe they are invincible.
However, the title of “Tammy’s Favourite Cat” was dubious because they all died. Natural causes. Alright, semi-natural.
My history with cats is traumatic – and a tad gory. Feline lovers, you may require tissue.
I grew up on a dairy farm in the hamlet of Geysir outside Arborg, Manitoba. Hamlet sounds so quaint.
Our farm was overloaded with cats. In the evening when all 70 to 80 meowed at once – it was Alfred Hitchcock-like. A main contributor to the feline population was Puffballs, a tabby tomcat who visited every winter. Then he’d ship off, and lo and behold, the following spring would bring baskets of kittens! Most resembling Puffballs. Luckily, we had a large barn.
Like a beehive has its Queen Bee, we had a monarch cat: Lucky. A sleek and sophisticated tabby with her own sleeping area and milk bowl. When Lucky birthed kittens, a hush fell throughout the farm. Lucky’s kittens were coddled – and the first-born was held up by a mandrill … wait, that was The Lion King.
Lucky birthed my first favourite kitten, Rainbow, who was brown with orange dots. We kept Lucky’s kittens in a silicone castle with padded carpet. So, an extra large red plastic crate with straw. One day, I couldn’t find Rainbow. Until I dug into the straw. What kitten dies when they’re barely a month old? The start of the curse.
I moved onto Gizmo, who looked similar to Rainbow.
Gizmo, far right-hand side. Isn’t he adorable. Just look at the fear in his eyes.
A month ago, I watched a snippet on Facebook of Family Feud.
A contestant stood beside Steve Harvey, and his family watched in horror as they lost by two points at the end of the show.
Name an animal that gallops. Horse. Cheetahs. Dogs. He said, “Giraffe.” The arm chair game show watcher could easily say, “What! You could’ve said… another animal!” But that ACGSW isn’t under pressure. The person on television knows clock is ticking. (Technically, a giraffe does gallop)
For example, does anyone remember that early-1990s beep?
It could only be … Supermarket Sweep!
The Canadian version of the Price is Right. Even though, Supermarket Sweep originated from the United States. Minor deal.
My television selections were comprised of five channels, six on a clear day – and two stations were the same. Those who survived Farmer Vision will remember the slider on the back of our televisions. And maybe the what stations were on channels 2 and 6, and channels 5 and 7. Good times.
I Googled “ideas for blog posts during a pandemic” tonight, trying to come up with a story. There are few topics to write about when people are either arguing or making fun of hoarding toilet paper,
Some believe COVID-19 is a death sentence, and others are saying the symptoms are mild. While some people are panicking, and others are relatively calm. I’m in that camp.
I’m confident with self-isolation, quarantines, social distancing, and proper steps to keep each other safe, we can control COVID-19.
I understand some people are more vulnerable than others. People are worried about their families, the elderly, people with weakened immune systems and with underlying conditions.
Arborg Co-op, March 2020 / Photo: Tammy W. Karatchuk
Yes, be ready. Have a plan. Buy one can of Lysol. I was out, so I bought another – out of need. The toilet paper was low. Again, out of need. I wonder if the people hoarding toilet paper understand their actions. Then when it dawned on people that, hey, we can’t eat toilet paper, they moved onto food, leaving the shelves bare.
This isn’t an Apocalypse.
When the World Health Organization (WHO) announced COVID-19 as a pandemic, they said “the word ‘pandemic’ shouldn’t instill fear and panic.”
But it has and here we are. Each COVID-19 case is scary. But we don’t know the story behind the case. Travel? Close contact?
A fun fact about toilet paper. Pre-1960s, when some households didn’t have running water, toilet paper was a luxury. When duty called, people would use Eaton’s catalogues, newspaper, the funny pages. Whatever was available.
Today, we’re about immediate gratification. A “me-me-me” mentality.
When I was young, my paternal Gigi mentioned a man who took the last piece of butterscotch marshmallow square, my favourite at the time. He told me, it was selfish to take the last of anything.
That’s stuck with me. However, if it’s something I can’t do without, such as feminine hygiene products or almond milk, I have zero choice.
For now, keep your distance, wait this out, and keep in touch with your loved ones.
Tammy W. Karatchuk 