My Family

When I was younger, life was difficult living in a small house with eight children. At one time, my sister added to the mob by contributing her husband and two infants. Something was always happening in our home.

Things were different. Part of it was the era we lived in; the rest was just the way it was in our household.

We never locked our doors. It wasn’t until I moved to Kitchener from Toronto that I had keys to my mother’s home. There wasn’t any need for security. If the place was ever empty, which was seldom, it would be long before somebody came along. Anyway, we didn’t have anything that anyone would consider stealing.

Like many families in the 50s, Saturday night was bath night. One tub was drawn for the young ones and they all took turns using the same water. Not only that, I don’t remember having my own towel or washcloth until most of my brothers and sisters had moved out. I shudder at the germs that must have been transmitted, especially when I wonder now where that washcloth might have been before I washed my face. We didn’t seem to get sick, though.

I tried inviting friends over after school. It didn’t work out very well. Usually fights broke out and I would get embarrassed.

My mother was the focal point of the whole family. Then she died. I remember talking with a sister on how the family would stay together without her being the glue to make us stick.

It’s funny how things work out. As we have moved on to our own lives, our family had gotten stronger and stronger. We are closer than we ever have. I realized that this weekend.

One brother died nine years or so ago, but most of us try to get together two or three times a year.

This past weekend, we got together for dinner and a play in St. Marys. Then, we went out for breakfast this morning.

I have come to realize that my family is important to me. I have also understand that the relationship we have with each other is something special. Few families experience this. The common experience we shared as children is part of the cord that binds us together. We understand and accept each other. We also have learned to enjoy each other’s company.

I wouldn’t trade my family for the world. Everyone is so special to me.