Rosemary

Rosemary

I was ten years old and my mother felt I was too old to keep getting dolls as presents.  I didn’t agree with her at all. Her idea just made her last doll gift to me all the more precious.  It was so beautiful; she was almost like a real baby. She had short curly red hair.  Her arms were just like skin, soft and malleable.  Her little fingers squeezed mine, I’m sure of it.  She’d look at me with those big blue eyes that opened and shut when I tilted her head, and her long lashes went up and down.  I called her  “Rosemary’.  You could say I loved Rosemary. Very much. In my world of aloneness, she was the receiver of my affections.  She was so cuddly.

I lost Rosemary when we moved home from France when I was eleven. My memory is vague as to the exact time, but I know I was longing for her.

It was many years later at the family cottage, that my aunt mentioned she had seen Rosemary at the bottom of the lake.  I was horrified.  But I figured that my cousins, who were young at that time, and mischievous, had taken her from me to play a joke and just pitched her in the lake. 

I grieved my Rosemary for years.  Somehow, knowing where she was offered closure and I lived on with the fond memory of her.  I have tried many times to replace her, but I don’t think they make them like that any more.

Camping

Camping

Even as a kid I appreciated being able to travel the world the way we did. I was so grateful and felt so blessed. Even with a couple of wretchedly wet camping experiences, I could still say this.

When we were camping on the beach at Nice, it was raining.  It was one of the many times my dad had to get out in the rain and put the tent up.  Karen, being pretty solid and strong, would help him.

My parents slept in the tent with Susan, all zipped in nicely, and Karen and I slept in the outer part under the over-hang, on cots.  There was no floor, just the sides of the tent and the canopy. The rain was pouring in one side and flowing out the other. I was freezing.  My mother says from  her cozy sleeping bag, “Put your sox on!”. I replied, “I have my sox on.”  She furthers, “Put on your sweater.”  I answer, “I have on my sweater.” “Put on your coat.”  “I have on my coat.”  At which point she feels she’s done her motherly job and goes to sleep. I eventually slept myself, but I woke up, sleeping bag and all, in a puddle outside the tent. My mother had to get up at this point and fix me up.

When we were on the Italian Riviera, I almost drowned.  We were again camping on the beach. I enthusiastically ran into the sea, straight into a big wave which made its way into my lungs.  It gagged me and I can still remember the strong taste of salt.

Crash of two CF 100's

Two CF 100’s crash on the Base

I was in the PX [that’d be the food store], buying my favourite fries and gravy when all of a sudden there was an impact on the earth and the ground shook under my feet. The lights dimmed and flickered. The only noise, after the ominous thud, was the sound of change raining down on the counters as if someone had hit the jackpot.  Everyone froze for a second or two, expecting someone to explain to them what was going on.  

People took to the streets in panic. I followed the crowds towards the smoke in the sky. That’s where the hospital was.  A fire? An explosion? There? That would be too horrible. What was it?

I found a safe place to witness this horrific scene as it unfolded before me. I sat on the steps of the church across the street from the hospital and watched the fire blaze. 

We were later to learn the tragic news that two CF 100’s had collided in mid air. The pilots ejected and survived, and the planes crashed into the ground.  One landed in a farmer’s field, making sacrifice of a Holstein and the other, on the hospital, which was burning before my eyes.

I will also always remember the stories of heroism of Dr. Chisholm who held up the burning walls of the maternity ward so the mothers could escape.  While he survived, he suffered disfiguring burns.

I took the bus back to the PMQ’s and told Mom what had happened.  Since we didn’t have any telephones, the wives of the pilots had to worry and wait for news if their husbands were alive or not. There was a phone at the office  which was useful if the office were open. I didn’t know if these fretful wives used the phone that day.

The Kid's Club

The Kid’s Club in France

Kids are weird. A bunch of them decided to form a club. If you wanted to be part of it you had to be initiated by holding your foot in a red ant hill and let the ants crawl up your leg.  No thank you. I had a few select friends who liked bunnies and hopscotch.  I didn’t like the kid’s club.

My Parents

My Parents

My parents were still teenagers at heart, drinking, partying and smoking.  Anytime there was a party at the Base, they’d be there.  They kicked up their heels at house parties to the tunes of Bill Haley and Little Richard.  They knew how to have a good time. We were just along for the ride.

What effect did they have on me as an adult? Well, once I got over the resentment I had for them, especially towards my father, I figured I fell into the realm of ‘The test of fire makes strong steel’. In the adversity, I built character. My father became insignificant.  He had proven himself to me and I had no use for him.  The fact that he left the country when I was18 to retire in Spain for 35 years did not endear me to him. I was always felt I missed out on that special father-daughter relationship, but it just wasn’t in the cards for me. I feel he stole some joy out of me. 

At difficult periods in my life, the darkness I felt as a child would haunt me. Life’s challenges would be exercises to resist going there emotionally.  It was always there, like part of my blue print. Most times I would succeed in averting it, other times, not so successful.

My mother had the ability to carry on regardless of what others may think and to act in her own best interest. These traits were almost opposite to my make up.  But I studied her and wished I could be more like her because she was always happy, wasn’t a complainer and always made the best of any situation.

Karen and Susan

Susan and Karen

It was during this time in France, that my little sister, Susan, came into the picture. She was adorable with her blue-blue eyes and curly locks.  Everyone loved Susan.  She was always happy and so cute and besides, everyone saw her day after day tied up in the front of the apartment building, playing with toys and sometimes bugs.  My mother would lean over the balcony and check her out.  We joke that she lowered cookies on a string but I can’t be sure that is true. I think its true.

My parents would take her to the pubs in St. Avold and feed her beer.  The French aren’t as tied up as we are when it comes to drinking. Besides, she was so cute propped up on the bar table. 

Susan did have one disaster.  Not to do with drinking but with cigarettes.  She was  about one and a half years old playing in her play pen just within reach of an ash tray.  No she wasn’t smoking!  Just imagine a toddler pulling out her morning cigarette! “Think I’ll have a Gitain”.  No. The French weren’t that liberated and either were my parents.

After she ate a couple of butts, she passed out and turned blue.  A friend of my mom’s rushed the two of them to the hospital at the Base. After they pumped her stomach, she came around.  

I adored her. She was my real life doll. All she can remember about me is that I tricked her one time into eating burnt popcorn. Such is life.  You do the best you can and when you mess up once, that’s all others remember.

Karen was in my life but mainly to beat me up. She was always mad I arrived in the family.  Sometimes she would hit my arm so hard I couldn’t move it. I’d say, “Mom, Karen hit me and I can’t move my arm.” From what I can remember, that was the end of the conversation. Karen was strong and well built and I was a little wisp of a thing.

Dreams and flying

Dreams and Flying and Space Trips.

It seemed easy to me when I was going to sleep at night, to soar into the heavens.  I’d drop off a planet and fall into space. Sometimes I would want to float in the air and I would look at myself from a different corner of the room. 

I used to think of my mother’s voice and I would hear her as if she were in the room with me. I had all these abilities when I was young. I recollect thinking at one time, that others weren't doing the same things, so I stopped.