Oooo...eeeeee! By the time my head hit the pillow last night, I was so exhausted, I slept for about seven (7) hours. Thank You, Lord!
If you read yesterday's entry, you'll know that eventually, my parents reconciled and we moved home. Other than M & J, our British neighbours who my Mom stayed with at the beginning of this ordeal, all neighbours and friends were told we visited family, without my Dad, because he had to work.
This was easy to do, since it was summertime.
Of course, September came. With it, came the promise of a new addition to our family. My Dad had calmed down, agreeing to not make my Mom give up the baby for adoption.
As I wrote on an earlier entry, my parents attended my Aunt Lily and Uncle Don's wedding and reception the day before my Mom's 40th birthday. Whether she danced hoping to bring on labour, I really cannot say. I just know that early the next morning my Mom was in labour.
Mom's water broke. Dad was yelling to hurry up, stop doing things around the house and get into the car, for he was driving Mom to the Peel Memorial Hospital, Brampton. Eventually, they left for the hospital. At the time, not only were children under 14 years of age not permitted to visit at the hospital (things are so very different, now), but I had to stay home and take care of my little brother, Glenn.
About a half (1/2) hour later, the hospital phoned our home, giving me a message to tell my Dad that the baby was a girl. What a 40th birthday present!
This was both shocking and heartwarming all at the same time. Happiness and sadness was partly the feelings I had. Happy that I had a baby sister; sad, wondering what would happen, next. As I said, I had left over feelings of stress, anxiety, and so much more, for so very long afterwards, even into adulthood.
Of course, some questions I had were: Why would I have to pass along a message to my Dad? Wasn't he there with my Mom? If not, where was he?
As to where my Dad was, I never did find out. A little while later, he returned home. I found out that my Dad had dropped my Mom at the hospital Emergency Room door; apparently, he never even entered the hospital with my Mom. Within minutes afterwards, Mom had delivered my sister, S.
Thinking things would be okay, because my Dad didn't go ballistic again, I asked if I could tell my friend next door M, about my baby sister being born. I was given permission.
At first, my friend didn't believe me, nor did her family or most other people. The reason was because no one knew Mom was even expecting. As I mentioned, Mom was a heavy-set person, who had been trying to lose weight. She never even had to buy maternity clothes, for she never outgrew her normal clothing. She had never looked pregnant. Amazing, wouldn't you say?!
After my Mom came home from the hospital with my baby sister, of course people then came to realize that I had been telling the truth.
My baby sister S, became the apple of my Mom and Dad's eyes. To me, this was truly amazing, especially since my Dad had never wanted us children. One thing my Dad had agreed to do, upon reconciling with my Mom, was to move back to Clarkson (today it is part of Mississauga). Yes, we owned a house there, too.
It wasn't a case that we were well off or anything, because we truly were just an ordinary working family. However, when my parents had sold the home in Clarkson in order to make the move and buy a home in Brampton, they had to hold a second (2nd) mortgage on the property. The buyer later walked away from the home, creating a situation where my parents either had to redeem the property, bringing the first (1st) mortgage arrears up to date and take over possession of the home, or walk away from it, losing their investment. Their choice had been to redeem.
The house had been left with great damage. As a Realtor, I know today that this is fairly normal; people just don't understand that it is not just wrong to do this, but sometimes don't realize the ultimate repercussions.
In any case, I recall spending much time at the Clarkson house, helping to strip wallpaper, remove crayon writing from ceilings, and doing general cleaning, while my parents tackled the worst damages, like replacing the toilet pipe that had been sawed through and partially removed. Ugh...
Since my parents didn't want to move during the middle of the school year, the house was rented, but it didn't work out well.
Eventually, my parents were ready for our family to move, so our Brampton home went on the market and was sold. Moving day came. It was sad leaving Brampton and my friends. It was sad when I realized that my 'old' friends from Clarkson, had found 'new' friends, but God provided; I joined in with my 'old' friends crowd, so all became 'new' friends, to me.
Just as a side note, you might find it interesting to note that we moved a lot, when I was a child. In total, I attended eight (8) schools, by the time I was ready to leave school and go to work. lol I know what it's like to not have roots in your life. I know what it is like to move, leave good friends, continually make new friends and have to assimilate into a new environment. So, do you think being a Realtor is a good profession for me?
Believe it or not, there is a reason I have written about this; it continues. Thank you for being patient.
Until next time...
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