Celebrating 65 years on this Earth Day 2016 . . .
. . . with a birthday trip at the invitation of Rob & MK to see our favorite artist perform live at The Ark in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Traveling is never high on my list but this I couldn't resist and decided . . .
CLICK > BELOW TO PLAY THE MUSIC THEN PLAY > TO START THE SLIDESHOW.
2016 Patka Family Fishing Trip - Lake Noquebay WI
Music Performed by Rob Patka
2015 Patka Family Fishing Trip - Shawano Lake WI
The lights of my life . . .
January 29, 1974
My firstborn should have arrived earlier but seemed to be more intent on patiently kicking the barrier surrounding himself to make a small hole and have a look-see first. I didn't know what to expect - boy / girl - at a time when ultrasound was not recommended unless necessary. The fact that my "water" leaked for 3 days while I didn't go into labor wasn't a matter of necessity. Finally, on an early morning in late January 1974 two weeks after my due date, I was hospitalized and put on IV Pitocin to precipitate labor. As evening approached; after 8 hours on the drug, there was no change in my condition - no contractions, no dilation. The obstetrician keeping vigil at the foot of my bed for hours then made the call: Caesarian. 6:00 pm the 29th of January 1974: "It's a Boy!" Welcome 6 lbs. 7 oz. - Robert Randall! The smile on his face has never changed. Neither has mine. ~2014
February 20, 1978
Fast forward: I was scheduled for C-section on Valentine's Day, February 14th 1978, to give birth to my second child but in the eighth month of pregnancy my obstetricians determined that I was actually going to have two! Knowing the unlikelihood of spontaneous labor for me delivery was delayed a week to provide "them" with the advantage of putting on a little more weight.
I was just a little disappointed, truth be told, that they weren't born on Valentine's Day but blessed to have this perfect baby boy and baby girl one week later. Not enough years later, I'd learn that Valentine's Day would come to hold other significance. In the banner you will find: Memorial to Scott Edward Patka.
Remembering Ma ... November 21, 1929 - September 23, 2011 - Her Life and Her Love
"The Bushe" - a variation on the Polish word for grandmother, "Busia" - was born November 21, 1929. Helen (no middle name) Wajckus married Andrzej "Andrew" Casimir Cieslarski on the 20th of November 1949 and turned 21 the following day.
"Pattie Ann" was their firstborn - on the 22nd of April 1951. I was named after my father's favorite female vocalist of the day - Patti Page. I became the son that my father didn't have first.
A little over a year later, Mom was about to give birth to her second child. Family doctor, John Siedlinski MD, fled the delivery room to pose a life-saving question to Dad. "The baby is breech and the cord is wrapped around its neck. Andy, I don't think I can save both. Helen or the baby?" Dad chose Mom, certain that she could always have more children.
Though breech and blue, Nancy Ellen refused to give up and Dad's boisterous second daughter was born on his birthday - the 27th of November 1952 - also Thanksgiving Day that year. Dad named her Nancy - "with the laughing face" according to the lyrics of another song popular in the day. He knew from the beginning that Nancy would always be funny, crazy and love life.
Nancy's youth was spent being “little mother” to our youngest brother, Mark, the last to come along several years after the birth of Dad's firstborn son and namesake, Andy. Where Nancy went, so did Mark. At the age of 33, then mother to her own three children, Nancy was diagnosed with cancer. Her youngest, Christopher John, was 3 years of age. She endured the next seven years; from surgery to surgery with endless chemotherapy in between, battling the cruel disease. As those seven years approached the end, I will never forget her words to me, “I hoped for a miracle.” I looked at my sister and said, “Perhaps you’ve had your miracle” for it took the cancer seven years to take her life – and she was able to see her youngest child grow from the age of 3 to 10. Andy and Helen ("Pa" and "Bushe") faced the fate that no parent should ever have to face. They buried a child. The enemy that Nance fought so valiantly will never take her from our lives. Her eldest daughter, Gina, gave Nancy and her husband, John, three grandchildren that she waits to meet in another time and another place. Their son, Christopher, married on the 20th Anniversary of his mother’s passing – the 9th of June 2013.
Nancy defied the odds against her at the beginning of her life. Ma did go on to have more children, as Dad said she would - their sons; my brothers, Andy and Mark. The three of us have lived to see our sister, father and mother go before us. Someone often remains in this unenviable position. I choose to believe that Dad and Nancy were there to greet Ma when she arrived on the 23rd of September 2011. I choose to believe that the ”family reunion” must have been spectacular - Nancy, Dad, Ma’s parents - August & Anna Wajckus - Ma’s sisters - Loretta and Marie, her brother, Gus – and all those who have gone ahead that knew and loved them, that know and love us.
We celebrated Ma’s passing at her wake and funeral. Andy and Mark have always had the distinction of being “Ma’s boys” as much as Nancy and I were “Dad’s girls.” No one ever argued the point and Ma simply smirked whenever it became a topic of conversation. I would not have traded positions with my brothers for all the tea in China. With being "Ma's boys" came the responsibility of enduring the end of her earthly life. In recent years I have been the “absentee daughter” so it was left to Andy and Mark to make the daily pilgrimage to the nursing home to visit Ma in the waning days of her life here - a grueling task. I owe them both a debt that I can never repay.
Ma’s wake and funeral were a perfect gathering of family, old and new friends. Mark and Joy scoured dress shops to find just the right clothes in which to send Ma on her way, and made a perfect choice. Ma was beautiful - surrounded by flowers bearing ribbons from her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, accompanied by arrangements sent by extended family members and friends - several indoor plants that went home with some of the family.
In her latter days, just prior to the time it became necessary for Ma to move to a nursing home, she spent several months living with us in the middle of nowhere Ohio. For a woman always reluctant to travel, it was quite a step. She arrived here on Ev's Birthday, the 25th of September, and returned to Chicago on my birthday, the following 22nd of April . So typical of the coincindence of significant dates in our lives. Ev and I were married on the anniversary of his father's death. Nancy was born on our father's birthday, also Thanksgiving Day in 1952. Mom passed on Ev's mother's birthday.
"Pattie Ann" was their firstborn - on the 22nd of April 1951. I was named after my father's favorite female vocalist of the day - Patti Page. I became the son that my father didn't have first.
A little over a year later, Mom was about to give birth to her second child. Family doctor, John Siedlinski MD, fled the delivery room to pose a life-saving question to Dad. "The baby is breech and the cord is wrapped around its neck. Andy, I don't think I can save both. Helen or the baby?" Dad chose Mom, certain that she could always have more children.
Though breech and blue, Nancy Ellen refused to give up and Dad's boisterous second daughter was born on his birthday - the 27th of November 1952 - also Thanksgiving Day that year. Dad named her Nancy - "with the laughing face" according to the lyrics of another song popular in the day. He knew from the beginning that Nancy would always be funny, crazy and love life.
Nancy's youth was spent being “little mother” to our youngest brother, Mark, the last to come along several years after the birth of Dad's firstborn son and namesake, Andy. Where Nancy went, so did Mark. At the age of 33, then mother to her own three children, Nancy was diagnosed with cancer. Her youngest, Christopher John, was 3 years of age. She endured the next seven years; from surgery to surgery with endless chemotherapy in between, battling the cruel disease. As those seven years approached the end, I will never forget her words to me, “I hoped for a miracle.” I looked at my sister and said, “Perhaps you’ve had your miracle” for it took the cancer seven years to take her life – and she was able to see her youngest child grow from the age of 3 to 10. Andy and Helen ("Pa" and "Bushe") faced the fate that no parent should ever have to face. They buried a child. The enemy that Nance fought so valiantly will never take her from our lives. Her eldest daughter, Gina, gave Nancy and her husband, John, three grandchildren that she waits to meet in another time and another place. Their son, Christopher, married on the 20th Anniversary of his mother’s passing – the 9th of June 2013.
Nancy defied the odds against her at the beginning of her life. Ma did go on to have more children, as Dad said she would - their sons; my brothers, Andy and Mark. The three of us have lived to see our sister, father and mother go before us. Someone often remains in this unenviable position. I choose to believe that Dad and Nancy were there to greet Ma when she arrived on the 23rd of September 2011. I choose to believe that the ”family reunion” must have been spectacular - Nancy, Dad, Ma’s parents - August & Anna Wajckus - Ma’s sisters - Loretta and Marie, her brother, Gus – and all those who have gone ahead that knew and loved them, that know and love us.
We celebrated Ma’s passing at her wake and funeral. Andy and Mark have always had the distinction of being “Ma’s boys” as much as Nancy and I were “Dad’s girls.” No one ever argued the point and Ma simply smirked whenever it became a topic of conversation. I would not have traded positions with my brothers for all the tea in China. With being "Ma's boys" came the responsibility of enduring the end of her earthly life. In recent years I have been the “absentee daughter” so it was left to Andy and Mark to make the daily pilgrimage to the nursing home to visit Ma in the waning days of her life here - a grueling task. I owe them both a debt that I can never repay.
Ma’s wake and funeral were a perfect gathering of family, old and new friends. Mark and Joy scoured dress shops to find just the right clothes in which to send Ma on her way, and made a perfect choice. Ma was beautiful - surrounded by flowers bearing ribbons from her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, accompanied by arrangements sent by extended family members and friends - several indoor plants that went home with some of the family.
In her latter days, just prior to the time it became necessary for Ma to move to a nursing home, she spent several months living with us in the middle of nowhere Ohio. For a woman always reluctant to travel, it was quite a step. She arrived here on Ev's Birthday, the 25th of September, and returned to Chicago on my birthday, the following 22nd of April . So typical of the coincindence of significant dates in our lives. Ev and I were married on the anniversary of his father's death. Nancy was born on our father's birthday, also Thanksgiving Day in 1952. Mom passed on Ev's mother's birthday.
Create your memorial to deceased family members at this free site.
http://www.findagrave.com/index.html
"DeHart's Ark"
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Column 1: "Beauty" (yellow Labrador Retriever) - "BJ" - (black Lab/Terrier) - may the old guy rest in peace February 2013, "Max" fawn (American Bulldog) with "Finnegan" (orange Ginger Tom)
Column 2: "Bootsie" (grey/white tabby), "BabyPhat" (black domestic shorthair)
Column 3: "Bubbis D. Doggus" (black LabraDane), "Beast" (black Labrador), "Nicodemus" (black Maine Coon)
Column 2: "Bootsie" (grey/white tabby), "BabyPhat" (black domestic shorthair)
Column 3: "Bubbis D. Doggus" (black LabraDane), "Beast" (black Labrador), "Nicodemus" (black Maine Coon)
Our yellow and black Labs, "Beauty & the Beast," are female and male littermates that we adopted at 8-weeks of age from a breeder in Grove City, OH while we lived in Gahanna. They were the first of many that would eventually become part of "DeHart's Ark." Beauty and "Beasterowski" have now been with us for 13 years.
Also coming with us from Gahanna was "BabyPhat," a once very pregnant young stray who liked us enough to bring dead birds to our front deck every morning and hang out each evening as Ev tended to our garden and we enjoyed summer nights in the front porch swing. "Baby" had her 3 kittens in a windowwell of a neighboring apartment. Neighbors saw to it that her kittens were adopted before we left Gahanna and took "mama" along with us to make her new home here.
I've always longed to have a calico so we let our vet know that if one should come up for adoption, we'd appreciate a call. One day before too long, I found myself standing before the kennel cages at Jackson's Animals Unlimited. While I watched the calico kitten comfortably sleeping off its recent vetting, a little grey & white paw poked out at me from an adjacent cage and simply wouldn't quit. I got the message, and "Bootsie" got a home at DeHart's Ark.
Shortly before a Christmas past: son, Scott, divulged that he'd always wanted a "bulldog." We did extensive internet research only to find that we were unable to afford nearly a thousand dollars for a purebred English Bulldog. We did, however, find a breeder in nearby Delaware OH whose "English bulldog" crossed a Lab and had a litter of 10 mixed pups - "American bulldogs." Close enough.
Grendel - the American Bulldog
Scott had the pick of the 9 black & white litter born to a breeder in Delaware OH, chose the a black/white/brindle, and named him Grendel after the monster in the classic tale Beowulf. Who knew?
Didn't need another pup but I couldn't resist "Max," the only fawn-colored of the litter. Pictured below with Max is his constant companion: "Finnegan," our long-haired "ginger tom(cat)."
Ev had gone out to see his brother up the road one late February morning during an ice storm common to this area of the country in the winter months, and came back with a bulging parka from which he proceeded to extract a kitten and asked, "Would you have any interest in this?" Seems someone had simply opened a car door and dropped the bundle of fur he held, who became our "Finnegan."
"Bubbis D. Doggus" (the "D" stands for "Doofus") appeared on our deck one July day in the company of Everett's brother's Malamute - Bandit. We've never figured out why Bandit chose to bring the abandoned pup to OUR doorstep. "Bubba" looked so much like our Beast that we figured he was a Lab but on "Bubba's" first trip to the vet we heard: "This pup's way too big to be a Lab. You've got a Labradane here!" - cross between a Labrador Retriever and a Great Dane.
"Nicodemus" - a feral cat - once a tiny little black thing rescued outside Everett's mother's house, down the road from us, where all sorts of typical "farm cats" could often be seen looking for field mice or a "free feed." "Nick" has never quite gotten past his feral nature - still the one most hidden and easily "spooked" among our entire domesticated crew. But, that's okay. They're all family - a family that wasn't quite done growing.
"BJ" - for "Beast Junior" - because of such a resemblance to our lab, Beast, though on a small scale - was a sweet little lab/terrier mix who appeared one day at Ev's mom's house, availing himself of the cat food that kind Mrs. Dorothy DeHart provided in abundance for the feral cats who came to dine at her front porch. When "Mom Dee," moved to town with her daughter, winter was coming on. Couldn't find it in my heart to let "Beejer" fend for himself so; one afternoon, Everett and I coaxed him to follow us home. It would have been hard to find a more faithful dog - and this little guy was not only faithful but definitely old. Our vet, Dr. Parker; at Walnut Hills Veterinary Clinic, figured that the old fella was a good 12 years of age when we took him in. "BJ" followed Everett everyday, everywhere - from house to barn, from house to garden, from house to mailbox - up and back, down and up our 100-foot driveway - until the day, at the age of 14, "Beejer" passed away while asleep at Ev's feet. His body rests in peace here in a small grave beside "Ev's Shady Lady," our Bombay that, from a shelter in Gahanna, was our first adoptee.
Didn't need another pup but I couldn't resist "Max," the only fawn-colored of the litter. Pictured below with Max is his constant companion: "Finnegan," our long-haired "ginger tom(cat)."
Ev had gone out to see his brother up the road one late February morning during an ice storm common to this area of the country in the winter months, and came back with a bulging parka from which he proceeded to extract a kitten and asked, "Would you have any interest in this?" Seems someone had simply opened a car door and dropped the bundle of fur he held, who became our "Finnegan."
"Bubbis D. Doggus" (the "D" stands for "Doofus") appeared on our deck one July day in the company of Everett's brother's Malamute - Bandit. We've never figured out why Bandit chose to bring the abandoned pup to OUR doorstep. "Bubba" looked so much like our Beast that we figured he was a Lab but on "Bubba's" first trip to the vet we heard: "This pup's way too big to be a Lab. You've got a Labradane here!" - cross between a Labrador Retriever and a Great Dane.
"Nicodemus" - a feral cat - once a tiny little black thing rescued outside Everett's mother's house, down the road from us, where all sorts of typical "farm cats" could often be seen looking for field mice or a "free feed." "Nick" has never quite gotten past his feral nature - still the one most hidden and easily "spooked" among our entire domesticated crew. But, that's okay. They're all family - a family that wasn't quite done growing.
"BJ" - for "Beast Junior" - because of such a resemblance to our lab, Beast, though on a small scale - was a sweet little lab/terrier mix who appeared one day at Ev's mom's house, availing himself of the cat food that kind Mrs. Dorothy DeHart provided in abundance for the feral cats who came to dine at her front porch. When "Mom Dee," moved to town with her daughter, winter was coming on. Couldn't find it in my heart to let "Beejer" fend for himself so; one afternoon, Everett and I coaxed him to follow us home. It would have been hard to find a more faithful dog - and this little guy was not only faithful but definitely old. Our vet, Dr. Parker; at Walnut Hills Veterinary Clinic, figured that the old fella was a good 12 years of age when we took him in. "BJ" followed Everett everyday, everywhere - from house to barn, from house to garden, from house to mailbox - up and back, down and up our 100-foot driveway - until the day, at the age of 14, "Beejer" passed away while asleep at Ev's feet. His body rests in peace here in a small grave beside "Ev's Shady Lady," our Bombay that, from a shelter in Gahanna, was our first adoptee.