Dad

I haven't posted for a while because I wasn't sure what I should say about the funeral. I finally decided that I would reprint my talk here because that is the closest I have come to describing what dad means to me.




Randall Henry Rausch was born to Hank and Ann Rausch on Christmas day 1947. He had a 6 brothers and sisters. He went to high school in Calgary and served a mission in the Netherlands. He came home early when his father died of cancer and helped to support the family. It was at this time that he became a police officer in Calgary, a job that he would always be proud of and always regretted leaving early. Since I have joined the police service, it was nice to meet a few people that worked with and remembered dad and to learn that at least some of his stories were true. In May 29 1976 he married Georgia Ellen Toone in the Cardston Temple and almost a year later their first child was born, a beautiful baby boy... they moved to Claresholm where they had three daughters, Jewel, Tanis, and Crystal. I am not sure exactly when it was detected that mom had cancer but she had her first operation in February of 1982, only months after Crystal was born. After a long battle with cancer mom passed away on April 25 1986. Randall was left to care for their four children the youngest of which was only four years old. Randall worked as a cook, as a convenience store clerk and as a labourer at a fiberglass shop. When his children had each moved out of the house and were living in either Calgary or Edmonton, Randall moved up to Calgary so that he could be closer to his grandchildren. This was in stark contrast to his oft repeated plans of touring the world on a motorcycle once his last child moved out and just send postcards from the open road. In Calgary, he worked as a property manager and served in the Church as the executive secretary to Stake President Jensen. Most recently, Randall was working as a member of the commissionaire corps for the Calgary Parking Authority. On March 3 2007, Randall was found deceased in his NE apartment.
Now I am sorry that this history is so brief - I have not had the time to properly interview his siblings to find out details about dad's life before our family. My sisters and I also decided that the Randall Rausch we knew is likely very different from the person that anyone else saw. I spent a sleepless night last night but it is my goal that I might be able to convey a little bit of what the man we knew was like. In order to do that, I asked my sisters to share some of their memories of dad. Because everyone here are friends and family, I hope you will excuse the indulgence.


Crystal
I remember Saturday nights at the house by the airport…we would sit around the TV (I think watching Disney) while Dad put those little pink sponge curlers in our hair for church the next day.
He loved surprising us …I can remember getting bunnies and hamsters in my Christmas stockings, and the day he surprised Chad with his motorbike, and Tanis with her jeep. I remember getting out of school with Chad, Jewel and Tanis and getting ready to catch the bus when we realized that dad was sitting in his car (little white Buick) across the street. We got in and realized he was taking us to Bill’s Hills, our little family spot, for a picnic.
I remember dad always spoke of mom often and with the deepest respect and love…He never had anything bad too say about her and always gave her all of the credit for our achievements and him all of the blame for our mistakes. I remember how much he missed her…it seemed that more and more too. As he got older and as we all moved away from home I think that longing for her was at the forefront of his mind. He would often talk about how much he missed her…how much she would have loved to be here with the grandchildren…I think he even sometimes felt guilty that he was here and she wasn’t.
I remember him always being there for me…when I needed a car, when I crashed my car…everything…He just would step in and solve the problem…I was really spoiled.


Tanis
Wake up call: Every morning when we were younger Dad would try to get us up and going for school. He would open our bedroom door, (for most of my childhood my sisters and I shared one bed), flash the lights on and off and say, "Wooooo ooooooh…ever gone to sea Billy?" I still don’t know who Billy was or what my Dad was talking about but I knew if I didn’t get up he would come back and do it again.
Dad tried to establish a lot of traditions for us. Some that I remember and now am determined to carry on:
-candles at Christmas. For the entire month of December we would eat dinner by candlelight. This usually was a battle for my Dad to get us to eat without playing with the candle.
-Christmas Dresses. Perhaps he realized that without mom to make us our Christmas pajamas etc he would have to fill that gap. Every year for Christmas he would get us expensive puffy dresses. The kind of dress we only wore once a year but he got them none the less. Christmas was also Dad’s birthday and I don’t remember a single year that he didn’t say that all he wanted for Christmas was… "One hour of uninterrupted sleep." Now as a parent myself I understand why that was so desirable.
-Last day of school lunches. I don’t think there is another child out there who got a lunch like we did on the last day of school. Nothing but Candy. A brown paper bag or a plastic 7-11 bag FULL of Candy. I was every ones favorite for a day. I remember last year when my niece Ava finished her last day of school it was still important for Dad to take her out and celebrate her accomplishment in that same way.
Worn out shoes. I will forever have etched in my mind a picture of Dad’s worn out shoes. For most of my childhood Dad had a pair of black shoes that he used for church and every day. These shoes were worn and full of holes on the bottom. He never was one to put his needs or wants first.
I don’t remember a lot about the time that my mom was sick but it is like I remember perfectly well from the day of her funeral on. Dad missed her so much and I think those first couple of years were very hard years. I remember within the first week of her death…waking up in the middle of the night and hearing crying. I followed the sound down the hall and to our front entrance where the washer and dryer were. There on the floor was my Dad sobbing like a baby. He saw me watching him and I think he was a little embarrassed or frustrated that I had caught him. He mumbled something about not knowing how to work the washer and sent me off to bed. When I think of how lost and alone and LITTLE I have felt since Dad’s passing I can only imagine how my Dad must of felt when he lost my mom. I remember the long walks my Dad would take far into a field behind our house. He got very thin after my mom passed away and perhaps it was a result of those long walks, late night shifts or the broken heart he had.
Nights on the porch or deck with cold glasses of ice water while dad talked about the Gospel with us. I loved hearing the crickets around us.
Temple and mission: I don’t think any of my siblings would disagree that perhaps the one expectation that my Dad had for us was that us girls get married in the temple and that Chad serve a mission. Dad always said that if we wanted him there….it would have to be in the temple. He told us how it was what mom wanted and he promised to her that we would do those things. Dad was especially proud of Chads accomplishments as a missionary. Everywhere we went Dad had a mission story about chad. He would often phone people just to tell them he’d received a letter from Chad and to give them an update. Money was tight at this time and I know there were times that the Claresholm ward helped. There were other times that Dad just found ways to pay for it. I remember one time when Dad sold our washer and dryer to cover one months payment and for a month we went to a Laundromat until we could afford to replace the two.


Jewel
I remember when it was my turn for daddy-daughter dates. We would eat hamburgers at Tops Restaurant and play the Ms. Pacman video game.
I remember dad being at all my basketball games yelling at me from the bleachers to get my hands up. On the whole 30 minute ride home he would continue to "coach me".
I remember when dad was my seminary teacher. I didn't get any special treatment being his daughter; in fact, it was the same as when we were at home: "Jewel get your knees of the table!" I would look around the room and point out another student leaning back in his chair to which dad would reply "ya, well Curtis has the Priesthood." My friends all really liked him and he would drop everything in order to drive us to a dance or to a movie in Lethbridge.
I remember dad buying us girls each a wrist corsage to wear to church the first Sunday after every Valentines Day. I was embarrassed to explain to all my friends what the flower was for so I usually hid it when I went to classes. Looking back on it now though, I think it was really sweet.
I remember the long talks I used to have with dad.


Chad
I would like to share a few memories that I have. I want to begin by talking about my mother, because it really isn't possible to explain dad's life without mentioning her. Some of you may have known my mother but for those who didn't, I can tell you that she is the closest thing to an angel that I have ever met. I'm not speaking from personal bias, or a son's blind affection. Most people who knew her will tell you the same thing - and most incredible is that, at home, behind closed doors, she was just as good a person as what everyone else saw in public. In the nine years that I knew her, I never heard her utter an unkind word. I don't just mean, she never spoke unkindly to me; I mean, I never heard her say anything unkind about anyone! Now dad wasn't an angel, I can remember him saying unkind words, in fact I can remember him stopping in traffic just to say unkind words to fellow motorists. Dad, could be impatient - just ask anyone who has taken driving lessons from him, or has tried to talk him through a computer problem. Now, I should interrupt this by saying that dad became a lot more mellow after becoming a grandparent, as people usually do - with the grand kids he was a completely different person... of course he didn't live long enough to teach one of the grand kids how to parallel park or for them to try and teach him how to check his email, so we will never know how complete the transformation really was. The point that I am trying to make is he was a regular person, with warts just like the rest of us. I bring this up because it was very confusing for me to have a mother who was so perfect and a father who was so... normal. I often wondered how it was that they ended up together. I've felt that mom probably could have done better than dad, just as my wife Heather could have done a lot better than marrying me. The conclusion that I came to was that it was a case of the innocent and naive small town girl being tricked by the smooth talking city boy. Even though that is an oversimplification, that is the way I felt for many years. Brother's and sisters... I was wrong.
The day I realized that I was wrong is the day it dawned on me that mom would never have made and decision like choosing a spouse without first approaching her Father in Heaven. Let me also be clear that if ever there was a human being who lived their life to be worthy of the spirit, and was entitled to having that prayer answered, if ever there was a person who would have be obedient to the answer, it was Ellen Toone. Everyone here who knew her, knows what I'm talking about. As simple as that, I had been all wrong. I had been wondering how dad managed to pull the wool over mom's eyes. The question that I should have been asking is, "why did the Lord inspire my mother to marry my father?"

I want to skip forward to another memory I have. This is of the four of us kids lying in our communal, queen size bed in our home on the airport corner outside of Claresholm. Jewel and Tanis and Crystal laying next to each other and me sideways at their feet. Mom put us to bed every night. Sometimes she recorded our happys and sads from the day in a journal, and sometimes she read to us. The last book that she read was Charlotte's Web. We all looked forward to that time when mom opened up to the bookmark where we left off from the night before. The vivid memory that I have is of mom crying at the end of the book when Charlotte was saying goodbye to Wilbur just before she died. In fact, mom cried so much, she couldn't continue reading for a while. I had considered that memory often and always viewed it as an example of how sweet mom was - to feel such emotion for the fictional character in a children's book. It wasn't until years later, when I was a father and began to accumulate a children's library for my kids that I had occasion to read the story myself. When I did, the realization hit me so hard that I too was unable to continue reading for a time. As mom was reading that story to her four little children snuggled in that big bed, she too was saying goodbye. I can not begin to imagine what a feeling that would have been for her, to know that her children, the youngest only four years old, would have to grow up without her. We never knew how sick mom was. It was a decision that she and dad made so that we might have as normal a childhood as we could. And just like Wilbur in the story, we didn't understand exactly what she was saying and couldn't imagine her not being there.

Since that time, I have spoken with a good number of people who had visited mom in her final days. Regardless of who they were, none of them left her bedside before she first extracted a promise from them that they would watch over her children. Just as Charlotte spent the last of her energy, spinning a final message about Wilbur that she hoped would convince others of his worth, and in so doing, save his life, so too was mom spinning threads from the confines of a hospital bed that she hoped would reach through time and space and secure the safety of her children. We grew up in the shelter of the Claresholm ward. It is obvious now, looking back, that we were watched out for. However; of all those threads that were so desperately woven, there was one that stood out as being stronger and truer than all the rest. That thread would prove to be a lifeline that we would cling to throughout our lives. The promise that Randall made to Ellen was something that was sacred to him.

No one could have predicted the change that came over Randall. We certainly never would have. Dad was a man's man. He was gone on business trips a lot and then he was gone on hunting trips. He had all the toys. He knew the porcupine hills outside of Claresholm like the back of his hand and he was always out with his buddies. But after mom died I never again wondered where dad was. He was now wearing an apron. He was now washing the dishes. I said that no one could have predicted how dad would have reacted to something as debilitating as losing your companion and having to raise four kids the youngest only 4 years old on your own. That isn't exactly correct. The Lord knew something about Randall Rausch that he probably didn't know about himself. Mom may have recognized it when she fell in love with dad, something about him that told her he would be devoted to her and their children. What the Lord knew, like the diamond in the rough, was that when the trial came, and mom was called back to her heavenly home, dad would square up his shoulders and rise to it and the man who had had his share of personal hobbies and enjoyment would utterly forget himself in his fierce dedication to his children. Overnight, dad sold all his toys. He stopped taking hunting or snowmobiling trips. In fact, I don't think he saw any adults socially for a good number of years. Now his days were spent packing lunches and doing dishes and cleaning. Dad saw to it that we were active in the Church. His knowledge and testimony of the Gospel were substantial. Many people would contact him for references from his Gospel library. He blessed us with his priesthood and he taught us. I knew from a very young age that I would be serving a mission and I knew that I was expected to live worthy of the call. All of us knew that we would be married in the Temple. Dad was strict, just ask Jewel about him showing up personally to pick her up from a gathering of church friends from the Bishop's house when she was a few minutes past her curfew. Raising us was dad's whole life and he was haunted by the fear of failing at it. I heard the phrase, "someday I am going to meet mom and have to explain to her the choices I made with you kids", or something along those lines, at least a thousand times growing up. Dad literally used himself up in caring for us kids and he gave us all he had. Even much later in life, we had to be careful with the compliments we paid him - if I was clumsy enough to tell dad that his leather jacket looked nice without adding a reason why I didn't want it, he would have it slipped off his shoulders and held it out to me before I could. Dad was my best friend. From when I was a little kid and following him around, all the way up to when I was an adult with my own career and my own circle of peers, there was no one that I could count on more than my dad. Dad loved each one of his grandchildren. He loved his sons in law and his daughter in law.
Dad may not have been successful in terms of worldly success... in fact, I have learned that in this case, the word "estate" means a '95 GMC Sonoma - probably the loftiest title that that vehicle has ever held. Although, as dad would say, 'that truck has had everything done so it's like brand new'. We are taught that the most important work we will ever do in this life is that within our own families. Dad may not have had a lot of success, EXCEPT in the one thing that really matters. When it came to that... dad nailed it.

Now this has been a really hard time for my sisters and I, much harder than I would have predicted. Despite all of the changes that our family has gone through, dad has always been there as an anchor. Fortunately, there are a number of things that have comforted us. I would like to share those with you. First of all, is dad's job. I know he was proud to be wearing a uniform again and that he appreciated the camaraderie that came with working with a good group of people. As we reflected on dad's final days, Tanis asked me several times for reassurance 'they were nice to dad at his work weren't they? They liked him didn't they?" It has been a comfort to be able to tell her that they were.

The next thing that has been a comfort is his stake calling. Dad loved working with President Jensen and talked about him all the time. His stake meetings were the only things that he would miss a family dinner or get-together for. We were always so grateful that dad was appreciated.
What has really been comforting is that dad, after a lifetime of toil, has returned home to his eternal companion whom he has dearly missed for 21 years. And that he was able to give an account of his stewardship over her precious children.

The most comforting thing is to know that our Heavenly Father has a plan for us and that dad has inherited his reward and that some day we too will return home to see dad again.
It took me longer than it should have, but now I can answer my own question. My mom married my dad because she was attracted to his goodness and loyalty and because the Lord told her that he was the one. The Lord knew the burden that Randall would be called to bear a burden that a lessor man may not have endured. I owe my physical and spiritual safety to mom's decision and to dad's promise. What must have seemed like such an uncertain and fragile thread 21 years ago, has, through his life's work, become an unbreakable chain. My sisters and I are teaching in our homes the lessons and the principles that we learned in his, and I pray that someday I might be even half the father to my children that he was was to us.