My Grandpa Mark Dahl passed away on March 29, 1997-ten years ago today. I wanted to write something special about my Grandpa. I have so many vivid memories of him, they have not faded with time.
I was 18 years old when he passed away. He was only 74. We lost him because of a rare form of cancer had developed in his lungs. He flew airplanes in World War 2. He was a pilot and flew a Lancaster Bomber. These planes were lined with Asbestos and he inhaled it. The asbestos lay dormant in his lungs for almost 50 years and then turned into lung cancer. I can't remember the technical name of this cancer but apparently other veterans have also lost their lives with the same form of cancer- still a causality of war so many years later.
Anyway at 18 years,I was "young and confused" in so many ways, I had so few constants at that time of my life that losing Grandpa was really rough- he being such a "rock" for me. He was always around for us.
Don't get me wrong, he was a very busy man. He was a doctor in Magrath for 45 years. An article in the Lethbridge Herald referred to him as," a quintessential country doctor, a Marcus-Welby-type physician who typified the traditional country doctor".I knew that I could find Grandpa in obvious places like the Magrath and then the Dahl Clinic or the Hospital,on a house call or out to one of the hutterite colonies( often Rockport or Old Elm- I had the chance to accompany him on numerous colony visits). If he wasn't at work then it was a pretty safe bet I could find him at home, downstairs sitting at the end of that little orange couch with the coloured Afghan on it. He was either watching the news or Star Trek or snoozing away. If it was nice out, there was a good chance he would be on his ride-on mower in his yard or in one of his kids yards( either my dad's, Allan's or Dennis's). If he was in the kitchen, he was always sitting at the end of the kitchen table with his back to the fridge .He might have been eating or reading the paper but there was ALWAYS a bright red can of coke in front of him,(compliments of that old white freezer in their garage with the never ending supply of coke and sometimes chocolate bars.).
Other vivid memories of grandpa are as follows:
Suspenders, briefcases with RMD on them,nice leather coats, walking sticks, chocolate malts in Cardston, doctors bag, the spontaneous coyote call he made with his hands and mouth, watching basketball games, going to movies , collection of sports illustrated, rocks- he loved rocks, dairy queen treats, going out to eat, at grandma days he would say" are your eyes bigger than your stomach", picture books of bomber planes from previous wars, waterton, hiking bears hump and hearing his infamous coyote call somewhere along the trail and for sure at the top, his black framed old person bike, (the one that came in a matching set with grandma's), his named stamped into all his books, oh I could go on..........
Grandpa was an example of selflessness. He had such a humble and quiet way about him as daily served his family, his patients and the community. I learned a few things about Grandpa (from people seeking me out to tell me stories of him after he had passed). I learned that Grandpa was known to drive into Lethbridge(from Magrath) in the middle of the night after receiving a phone call from an intoxicated person to drive them safely home. On the day he died, we were all at his house looking at pictures and grieving together. The doorbell rang and an older Native women was standing on the door step. She told me that she had just driven all the way from the reserve because she had a bad feeling about"Dr. Mark" and needed to know if he was ok. I told her that we lost him that morning and she just stood on the steps and wept.
I also remember a time when I was doing my practicum on the Blood Reserve( for my social work degree). I was participating in a community march through the town of Standoff( Family Violence Awareness). I was walking with a Native women and we were just making idle chit chat. She found out I was a Dahl from Magrath, and that Dr. Mark was my grandfather.She began to cry and then proceeded to tell me how much she loved him and how difficult it was for her to find another doctor after he passed, she then decided that she needed to tell everyone around who I was related to. For the rest of that march people kept coming to tell me more and more stories about Grandpa. That women from the march always came and gave me a hug and was sooo kind every time she saw me after that day.
Some of you may remember the beautiful German song that dozens of Hutterite women stood up and sang in the middle of the funeral. I also remember the funeral director telling us that this was the biggest funeral they had ever done.The lines wrapped around the entire stake center (during the viewing) and the chapel and gym were filled to the back. I was also told that the year that Grandpa died, there was more than one little hutterite boy named Mark after him.
My little boy is also named after him.
I love my Grandpa, I think about him often and love to tell my kids stories about him. Maci says that she knows she met him in Heaven and laughs when she hears stories of him eating worms and making coyote calls. I miss him everyday. I love you Grandpa Mark-
love Meghann
Please feel free to post in the comments section any thoughts , feelings and memories you have about Grandpa Mark . Also pass on this link to anyone else you may have want to share in this tribute. I want to send this to Grandma Helen .
