Scene 3

Setting: Empty stage, desk.

Scene 3

A desk and chair, possibly elevated, at the back(or on one side) of the stage. A commentator (possibly based on Rod Phillips, but likely will be a more generic characterization) sits behind the desk, calling a particularly lackluster Oilers game.

Commentator: … We’re not seeing a strong performance by the Edmonton Oilers. Down 4 – 2, and the crowd has been silenced. I have to say, it looks like they’re skating uphill out there. Here’s McAmmond working his way into the zone, rips a drive, and it’s high and deflects out of play… They’ll line up for the faceoff, and I have to tell you… There’s one woman here that has not given up on the Oil, she’s been chanting all by herself “Go Oilers Go, Go Oilers GO!!” since that puck went out of play, and it’s really echoing through the Coliseum … you have to love that kind of… uh… dedication, for lack of a better term… I’ve got to say, it’s very determined to say the least, and might be getting this crowd back into it.

Here’s Weight to take the faceoff, he wins it clean and jams it over to Guerin, Guerin whips it over to Smyth on the far side, Smyth slides it back to Mironov at the point, he fakes a shot, back to Smyth, shoots and SCOOORES!! Ryan Smyth from the side of the net, and the Oilers are only down by 1 now; 4 – 3 is the score. This building has come alive – They’re chanting strong in the Coliseum, and the Oilers are going to leave their top line out there. Weight wins the faceoff, he charges into the zone, drops it back to Guerin and he BOOMS a shot and SCOOOOORES!! Bill Guerin, on a seeing- eye pass from Doug Weight, and it’s a 4-4 hockey game! The Oilers might be able to hold on, and keep their playoff dreams alive for one more night, and I’d say it has a little something to do with one die-hard Oiler fan who didn’t know when to quit.

Shawn: I can’t find that game. No matter how many box scores I go through, I can’t find it. I can’t tell you who it was against, or who was really on the ice. I wish I could remember those details. Sometimes, I have a hard time remembering a lot about her. I just have these moments in time that I found really amazing, and then a lot of… blur or haze around all of it. Sometimes, I feel like I’m letting her down, and that she deserves better than that… But I was there. I know it happened. Seeing Mom watching that game: She was quiet, but I could see how she felt about the fans around her.  There was a look in her eyes. A sort of “How dare you give up. We have time!”

And then, she suddenly stood up. Without hesitation, she started all by herself. “Go Oilers go!” towards the ice, over and over again. At first, I sunk down into my seat. “Mom, for the love of god, you’re EMBARASSING me”, was all I could think. If I could have disappeared inside my coat, I think I would have.  But then, she was shouting it to the other fans, turning left and right, leaning and shouting into the crowd “GO OILERS GO! GO OILERS GO!”.  I think people around her started joining in because, well, maybe they were getting into the spirit, or maybe they were a little bit scared that if they didn’t join in, she would NEVER stop.

Either way, it was working. It was a great rallying cry… She was always supporting the underdogs, always helping them win. One time we drove by some striking workers, and she and my Dad were really getting into it over something, but she said to him. “Honk for them!”, and without hesitation, leaned over and started honking the horn while he was driving. Maybe a little too robotically and rhythmically, but they got the point. And that was Mom when she was healthy. You always knew what her opinion was, because she never held back.

The only time I would worry about her was when the self-expression stopped.

Scene 2 (And it only took me half a year to get back at it).

Setting: Empty Stage

SCENE 2

Shawn: Everywhere she went, it was with conviction. I remember in the rare occurrence I saw her at work, where I had to visit for some reason, she was always practically running…. But in a way that was entirely Sheilaesque. She didn’t run like an athlete, or someone just in a hurry, she had a low-to-the-ground, intense, tunnel-vision way of moving. It might take several times to get her attention – “Mom… Mom… MOM… SHEILA!!” – And then she might stop and see you, half embarrassed and half annoyed that you were there. It had nothing to do with you; it’s just that she had a job to do, and nothing was supposed to get in the way. She had to take care of that entire nursing home, at least in her mind, and you were not to interfere.

So you can imagine how deeply convicted she became to stopping that strike. She had gone back to work after raising 2 exhaustingly energetic children, and she was going to use that money from that job to show us the world. We had travelled, sure, but really only to see those breathtaking roadside attractions in the Okanagan… The giant slide at Adventureland, the realistic stills of Bedrock at Flintstone Park, and the awe-inspiring Ogopogo, who I swear I’ve actually seen in the lake at least a dozen times.  Sure, that stuff was great, but she had been to Europe with Dad when they were young, and she wanted to share the amazing stuff we might not be able to afford if it wasn’t for that job. 

So it was up to her. She fought, and she picketed, and she held meetings at the house. She was a fierce competitor, not backing down from anyone… And she didn’t really see those who didn’t see eye-to-eye with her as worthy adversaries. She relentlessly mocked them to their faces and behind their backs, accidentally entertaining the family with her imitations of their voices, walks, and mannerisms, which mostly consisted of stereotypical flouncing, faces, and of course, talking with their tongues sticking out. So no matter whom they were, it was “JANICE DUUUHHFFERSUN” and they all walked the saaaaame… I suppose we should respect each other, but this was the people versus the man, so this was war.

I don’t think it mattered to her who won. What was important is that she and her fellow nurses were heard, their grievances known to the very last detail. That’s what kept her fearless.  That’s what kept her strong.