At the age of six, I had a big switch in my life. I started school in Berlin, Germany and then my mom and I moved to Canada. We lived in Nelson,B.C. and I had to learn everything in grade one all over again in english. I remember going into my room after school with my DICK AND JANE readers and reading outloud almost daily.
My grade one teacher was Mrs. Mc Cosham and I will never forget her. She was stern yet gentle, strict yet helpful; she truly cared about her students. She would come along and lift my head up because I held my face to close to my page; (at the time we did not know I would need glasses) she would let me take the reader home so I could practice and she would call on me at least three times a week to read orally in class when we had reading time. I became fluent in reading and printing in English by the end of that year. It is a wonderful memory because I had a teacher who cared and helped me along the way.(by grade three I got straight A's in spelling as well, again much to the help I received in the first grade.)
I enjoyed school immensely and put a lot of effort into every assignment I was given. I ended up going from grade 3 to grade 5 and it was in grade 5 that I began to get homework. 10 students from my grade 3 class, which included me, were moved ahead so they did not have to had a grade 3/4 split class.
In grade 2 I was seven and lost my real father to suicide; sadly I did not know him, so I did not feel the normal feelings a child would feel if they lost their father. I don't remember having any feelings at the time. (as an adult I wrote my Father a letter).
In grade 3 at age eight I lost my step-dad's first wife Gen, she suffered from M.S. That time I felt much grief and loss and could not figure out why all these people came to our home after the funeral and were chatting and even laughing right after Gen had died...I went into my room and sobbed into my pillow. (I had lived with Bud and Gen long enough that Gen meant a lot to me, so I did have feelings, and strong ones at that for an eight year old.) I don't know how I processed those emotions but I did, but it affected my school work that year. Mr. White, my grade 3 teacher noticed that my math marks fell and was concerned.) One thing that did help though was that in grade 3 we began music and I learned to play the recorder. I loved music then, and still do to this day. I can play guitar and piano and sing.
After Gen died my Mom and Bud married and I now had a Dad and 2 older brothers by marriage, Keith and Larry. I adored Keith, he was so kind hearted. We saw Keith and Lynne and their baby Brenda who live in the U.S.; we spent time with Larry and Ruth who were teachers and lived in Victoria.
I remember camping and boating trips...my new bike for my 10th birthday and the book "Heidi" given to me from my best friend, David Hubbard; having tea and scones with Mrs. Coleman, an older lady who lived down the lane ...and being allowed to get my ears pierced when I was 12 and my dad got me small gold sleepers with a piece of coral on each. It was so nice to have a bigger family...I still remembered Gen and missed her, but I loved my Dad and that I could call him Dad. I also remember we gave him a slide projector and a screen to show off all the pictures taken on summer holidays...many memories which I hold close to my heart even today.
At the end of grade 7 I had just turned twelve , I lost my DAD, who to me was the only dad I ever knew and who meant the world to me( I only saw Keith and Larry at the funeral and then after that no more; so in losing my Dad I also lost my 2 brothers.) My Oma was over from Germany at the time and that helped me so much now looking back at that time...(I had a dream in the night that my Dad was gone, but he was always gone early to work for the railway) I knew though that something was very wrong when I woke up because my Mom was not home and Oma took me to my favorite German Delicatessen.
My Mom came into the Delicatessen that morning and said to her mom (my Oma), "Bud ist tot", meaning Bud is dead.
As an adult I do not understand why I was not taken to the hospital so I could say goodbye to my dad while he was still alive, he died of a heart attack. His death turned my world upside down and inside out. I was never the same after that. Something inside me died the day my dad died. I had feelings that I could not identify or deal with at that age and I carried that heartbreak into my adult life...
We buried my dad in New Westminster and then moved to Vancouver in the summer of 1971 . In 1996 a friend drove through New West with me and I yelled STOP THE CAR as I knew here was the cemetery where my dad was laid to rest...I got out, stood under a tree, cried for the first time since I had been a child, and said my goodbyes to my dad. (Later a counsellor suggested I write my dad and my father and my oma all goodbye letters, that was in the year 2000...and that was a huge release and healing for me.)
These are some of the losses I suffered as a child and to this day I do not know how my body/brain managed to deal with 3 deaths in the course of five years. All I know now though is this... I believe God saw and knew and had His Hand upon my child's heart during those times of loss and grief. I'm sure He did or I would have not been able to cope with anything.
So, that is an outline of my younger years up to age twelve...I write this blog to help others...and if by sharing my joys and sorrows both, I can help even one person that reads this, then it is all worth the effort. It won't be all the time that I write from my life, but some; I have PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) which makes talking about the past difficult at times, because i don't just remember, I reremember...In other words I feel the feelings as intensely today as I would have at the time of the actual incident.
A few years ago I asked God how I could make a difference in this world we live in...His answer was so simple..."One person at a time." and that will be engraved in my heart forever.
We all have our own life story to tell and in the telling we can receive healing and help others along life's path...It is my hope and prayer that whatever I write will touch your heart and help you know that you are not alone.
I am not writing this blog to be told how nice it is or how good it is, but rather to share a part of me with you and let you know that there is hope...and that hope is found in helping one another and also in trusting God to bring healing to your heart if it is hurting.
If you want to write your email address in my comment box you can, as it is private to me only unless I publish it on the post. If you would like me to write you in an email I would be willing to do that as time allows. It is an offer to all, and it will be kept in confidence...why? cuz I care? why? cuz I've been in that place of aloneness and pain where I have had no one to talk to or turn to for help.
I pray that all who read this will be blessed and that your heart might be softened to allow God to pour His love into the places where you hurt.
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