My Grandma and Grandpa had five children. My mother, Lynn, was the oldest, then came Sue, Mike, Anna, and Greg. This story was told to me by my Aunt Anna and is one example of my Grandma’s playful, goofy, and sometimes accident-prone nature. We lost my Grandma to cancer 11 years ago, and I miss her every day.

My Grandpa loves to be outdoors. Every chance he got, he would take the whole family camping, hiking, and canoeing. My Grandma and the kids all went along, although somewhat reluctantly. The seven of them would fit into three canoes. Sue and my Grandpa David in one, Lynn and my Grandma Gale in another, and Anna would be stuck with the boys. They called her “Cleo” because she would rather suntan than paddle. 

Just about every weekend in the summers, the family would load up the van and go camping. They would spend all day paddling canoes down some river or another until they reached the point where they would all hop out, my Grandpa would find a road and hitchhike (This was the 70’s) back to the van, and drive back to pick up my Grandma and the kids and bring them back to the camp site. 

Upon one such occasion, the family stopped their canoe trip at a beautiful waterfall. Gale got the idea into her head that she could and should climb said waterfall. On the way up, my forty-something-year-old Grandma slipped and fell. She landed on her feet… spraining both of her ankles. 

My Grandpa arrived, loaded everyone into the van, and the kids spent the rest of the trip helping my Grandma to gingerly walk on her two sprained ankles. Being a nurse, I’m sure she had no thought of going to the hospital for her injuries. I would assume also that my Grandpa had no intention of cutting the camping trip short (he’s kind of a stick-to-the-plan sort of guy).