We had a party for my mother's 93rd birthday today.
Despite the fact that her vision is severely limited by macular degeneration and she requires hearing aids in both ears, mom often says she’s grateful she “still has all her marbles.”
Though at times she wonders aloud, “What I’m I still doing here?” she lives for her visits from her five children, thirteen grandchildren and eleven great grandchildren. We are delighted that our daughter Janice will help boost the great children number to twelve this August.
Over the past few months, mom has asked me to record the story of her early life. Let me share some of her words with you.
“I was born in 1920, second of four daughters for my parents Louis and Monica Wilson. My older sister Ernestine (Ernie) was just thirteen months older than me so I’m sure the two of us were quite a handful for mother at the time. My sister Theresa arrived within two years and baby Anne completed the family five years later.
My dad worked at the order desk at Sheppard and Gill, a lumber yard in downtown Toronto. His income of $35 a week was more than enough to keep his family comfortable although not sufficient to afford the luxury of a car when I was a youngster. A serious man, dad was strict yet gentle and showed his affection for his daughters with his carpentry handiwork that included rocking horses, doll houses and table and chair sets. A jack of all trades, dad played the clarinet and even cut our hair. My mother was a talented woman who excelled at cooking and baking. She was also a marvelous seamstress who sewed most of our clothes including our coats. Although usually very busy, mother always took the time for a funny joke or a good story.
As a newborn, I lived at 51 Woodycrest Avenue in the Beaches area of Toronto. Our family soon moved to a modest two bedroom house at 638 Rhodes Avenue. I always shared a bedroom with Ernie and as the family grew, dad added a third bedroom. He made the giant backyard idyllic with swings and a play house under our apple tree. We had a gas stove, a coal furnace, and an icebox. We also had a water glass, a large ceramic crock filled with water to preserve eggs.
Ernie and I were inseparable as children, so much so that we started grade 1 together at St. Brigid’s and were classmates right through high school. I was an average student who loved to skip with friends in the schoolyard at recess. Though we never had bikes, I learned to ride with the help of the boys who lived down the lane from our house.
I remember summers best of all as a child because of two special traditions. One was our annual outing with dad to visit the Toronto Island. I still have fond memories of the streetcar trip to the docks, the ferry ride to the amusement park and the sound of the merry-go-round. The other summer highlight was a trip to Victoria Harbour with one of my siblings to stay with grampa Wilson for about ten days. I remember long carefree afternoons playing in his attic, picking berries, walking with my mentally challenged uncle Davey to fetch water from the public well and enjoying the attention lavished on us by Aunt Martha, Aunt Margaret or Aunt Virgie, one of whom was always spending some time with their widowed father. When I reached the age of eight, a third special event was added to our August calendar. Mother would give Ernie two dollars and off the two of us would go for a day at the CNE. We loved the free samples at the Pure Food Building, the rides and of course the cotton candy.
Indeed I enjoyed a wonderful childhood. The fence that dad built around our backyard was symbolic of the security and love that encircled our family during those special years.”
I feel extremely blessed to have a mom who can still touch her toes as well as still reach the heavens with her prayers.
Our entire family treasures her love and we hope to continue our celebrations with her for years to come.
Know that for now mom, heaven can wait.
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