Dear Readers,

I have just recently celebrated another Birthday and as I recalled some interesting birthdays past. None comes to mind as vividly as the one I share with you below. Perhaps after reading my story you too will remember some wonderfully significant individual that influenced your life with good intentions, consistency and love….I hope you enjoy my story……Dawn                            

   My Papa

Growing up in a military minded family made being the only girl a real challenge. Dad had always hoped for a baseball team of dark eyed robust lads that were, tough, independent and

sports driven........

Unfortunately for Papa,  his first born was a “petite jeune fille”, moi!! Mother tells the story of Papa building an exquisite wooden replica of the minesweeper that he was on throughout the war. He had spent months working on the detail, carving each part with such love and pride. He was going to start his garcon (boy) off on the right foot, knowing everything there was to know about that time in history. A time when he and mother chose to serve in the Navy, the wonderful and magnificent RCN.

Well, that blustery February morning back in 19?? he sat patiently in the waiting room, anticipating the arrival of his first son. Apparently, the story tells of the nurse entering the room with a little bundle wrapped in a pink blanket, she approached Papa with a smile and congratulated him, holding the baby out for him to take. He looked confused and asked, “Why is my son wrapped in a pink blanket?” The nurse smiled and advised him that he had a baby girl not a boy!

Papa couldn’t seen to make her understand, he was having a boy, this little child in pink must belong to some other expectant father. After the denial and the persistence of the unsympathetic nurse, Papa was forced to give in......Alright......he didn’t have a son, he had a GIRL. What would he do with his wooden minesweeper? The hockey stick?” The baseball glove? The BB gun and the fishing gear?  A GIRL! How could she play left wing and how would she ever stand up to the body checks of Gordie Howe and Alec Delveccio?

Well let me tell you, Papa decided right off the bat that if he had to have “A GIRL”, then she’d be the best skater, the fastest runner, the longest hitter and the best shot on the block. Yep, he and his GIRL would show’ em that a LeClair (my family name), could hold their own, whether she be a she or she be a he.

Consequently when I was four, Papa got me my first mouth guard and a pair of jet black skates. Mother was horrified but said nothing. I skated that winter more on my ankles and face than I did on my feet. I really wasn’t brilliant with a hockey stick either. Papa would winch and shake his head, as I used the stick to stay upright.

Papa built a small rink in the back garden and told mother it was for my enjoyment....hmmm......He would drag me out on that darn rink every night after supper and he’d put his and my skates on. There we were for the next two hours, me falling, Papa supervising.  No girls were allowed on the back garden rink, only boys, and only boys with hockey sticks.

 At age five I spent another winter on the rink out back. The second year I could actually stand up and skate. Papa was proud as punch, now I had to learn to do it without using the stick as a third leg. “Non! Non!” Papa would shout, use the stick as another arm not a leg. Frustrated and exhausted he made me hold my left arm behind my back and hold the stick in my right. It seemed like a lifetime until spring arrived and melted that blasted rink, however much to Papa’s delight and my surprise by year number three I was skating and stick handling like a real little “Canadien”.

Now I was eight, slim, tall for my age and as agile as a cat, Papa was really getting into the coaching role now......roller skates all summer, (that would keep my legs strong) He insisted I carry my stick and stick handle stones and rocks all summer. By age nine I began to notice the girls in my class could not name every NHL player in the league, nor did they wish to. They weren’t interested in how many goals “The Rocket” had made the past season. I also noticed they didn’t own black skates... they had cute little white ones with fur around the top. Maybe Papa would let me glue black fur around the top of mine.

They wanted to skate holding hands, and they skated standing straight up, taking little short strides and not one could skate backwards or owned a stick. They squealed when the boys moved quickly around them.

They laughed when I showed them that I could skate faster than any of the boys, backwards, frontways or otherwise. The boys refused to allow me to play with them as not one could stick handle like I could. The girls wouldn’t skate with me because I wore boys black skates.

I thought Papa would go straight up and turn left when the peewee hockey coach refused to let me try out for the team. Thank goodness for small miracles........

Papa just couldn’t understand why I wasn’t scooped up as I was faster than any boy my age, however he was forced to give in when mother finally stepped in. On my tenth birthday I remember wanting white skates so bad. I wanted to learn how to skate like a girl. I was sure I was going to get them as I has spent the past summer and fall talking about them every chance I got.

I shall never forget that Feb. 23, my present was sitting on the table when I came home from school. It was my skates...I just knew it. The box was the right size. I could hardly wait. I ripped the paper off and tore open the lid and there much to my horror! A BROWN pair of SKI BOOTS........I stared into Papa’s smiling face, as he announced.......don’t worry my petite, they won’t keep us off the ski team!!!!  “Oh Papa!

My dear Papa passed away never knowing the joy of being the Papa of an Olympian......or a Montreal Canadian or even the Papa of a roller derby queen.........It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.....Papa was the best coach any GIRL could ever have had.

Until next time make every ordinary day extraordinary and appreciate your Papas’. Life is not the same without them.