Since I Can Remember: Holding My Past in My Heart Forever

By Patricia Obrien

This family has lived through hardships and lessons of sabotage from each other, and so few of us still want a family love. I, for one, fought and succeeded to be myself through the hardships, loss and pain of all kinds. A love once felt, made from hard times, only reins in a few. My love is changeable and has always been misunderstood, but this book is my life, my story, and as my mother once said, "If the others want their story told, they can write it. Never surrender, child; you are a true writer and I hope someday they feel the guilt that made you fight so hard to be you."

I am who I am.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Sep 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9780228826996

Patricia Obrien

Patricia Obrien began writing in simple forms from a public school near her home. Many a teacher asked her questions; her answers back to them confused them, since they were often questions as well. They fought for her in truth and books of proof. She still questioned them freely, but experience did not fail her. She completed her tests with the t's and i's crossed and dotted. Her grades were all A to A+ the bs made her average and she passed. Anyways, she lost some friends along the way, but to this day she fights criminal actions with her simple words, on her own. She protests at court without shirk and laughs in their faces as she bows in respect anyway. She is hard-driven – only by herself some days – but she fights anyways. Thank you to all my caricatures, even though not all loved by her, she is herself and has not failed.

Book preview

Since I Can Remember

Copyright © 2020 by Patricia Obrien

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-2288-2698-9 (Hardcover)

978-0-2288-2697-2 (Paperback)

978-0-2288-2699-6 (eBook)

Dedication

Every day is an opportun¡ty to do awesome things, like catching bugs and riding bikes, Double Dutch and flying kites. But, the MOST important thing you can do, is to share positivity and love! Based on the simple concept of spreading positivity and love, inspirational writer and illustrator TeIm A Part Of You

Seventeen kids who would have known,

From one man and his wife, each a small clone.

Blonde hair and work boots they both took a part.

Togeather they toughed it as one hearyt.

My daddy loaded boats ready for war with coal,

My momma she bared him her soul.

After the first, with smiles and a toast,

A new life for them both.

Out of it they made the most.

When the deprestion set its hardships on them,

The woods became dad’s best friend, never did his job end

A small village they found would give them the calm,

Another two or three babies you see, made this house they keep complete.

Now over the years daddy’s had no fears,

Momma, ya, she’s borne all the tears.

A long lonely night momma and six kids would pretend all the riches they seek someday will be their’s, No more socks knees or shoulders would she mend.

Somewhere around ten daddy went back to the town.

Again he had moved up in the life he had found.

Each day at lunch he’d see his bunch, alike they would stand not one empty hand.

A hug and a pat atop each head, put the gleam in his eyes,

As he watched his family thrive.

Another seven and at the last one’s birth,

He looked at momma and considered the worth.

They aged in hard times, went from pennies to dimes.

Together to this day fifty years of hard work for such little pay.

Mom and Dad I’d like to say for what ever its worth.

You brought me here, a part of your earth.

I thank you each night in a prayer for you both.

Blessings to you I’ll never shirk.

Your love comes true in everything Ido,

You see from my blonde hair down to my work boots.

It can’t be mistaken I’m a part of you.

Now people have said this family can’t be true.

Over so many years they’ve wondered about you.

Hearts fallen to love I always explain,

A whole lot of trust, and I imagine the same amount of pain.

With fifty years past you still seem the same,

Today we stand seventeen strong, ya we’re all blonde.

Not a lot of fourtune, but a whole lot of fame.

Each and every one of us You’ve made your claim.

I’m glad for you both,

Love from one who you gave a name.

1994 Patricia O’brien

ssa Brusven, brings this lesson to life through her lively verse, charming illustrations and powerful message.

Since I Can Remember

Holding My Past Forever in My Heart

Written By Patricia O’Brien

I sit here with all the memories of my life and think of the many things I hadn’t done as a girl in the simple life portrayed in this book. I realize only the dreams of the young girl could have made her know, as a grown up, that she could fulfill the ones not yet done, through completing this book. Ahead of her was a dream she would accomplish, and share with her family. As a symbol of the love, and trust that she carried all the years. As she would recall in times of love, sadness, and anger. All these feelings kept me in line and made it easy to show how, with the help of all who are reflected here. The tight, unbroken love this family has held for one another, carried us through the worst of times. So, to the memory of my family, I dedicate this book. I only ask them to continue being themselves which, as I see it, will leave this world with more love, seen through their experiences of knowledge, hardships and love that were shared in this large family. Giving them and others the hope to continue in all dreams. Because these children had them as well, and with the help of one another, most were filled because of the encouragement of one man, and one woman who, through their dreams, helped make the dreams of their children come to be true too. So, to you all, I give these memories to hold. Know that all of us will not recall things the same way. I hope the way I’ve portrayed the thoughts that have stayed with me. Will be recalled and laughed about. The way they returned the smile to my face more than once in the writing of the story. I send you all my love, and hope that your lives will always be full of love for one another.

WhoThey All are to Me

Gloria; The oldest girl in the family, she was so close to my Mom in her actions. I always looked to her for guidance in my younger years. I realize today that without her help, I would have been out in the cold more than once in my teen years. I would like now to say thanks, and tell you how much I love you.

Wayne; The eldest boy in the clan, remembered by me as the businessman in the family with dreams of sitting at a desk, pencil behind his ear making the plans for a future. That he has since accomplished over and over. With a never ending love for his parents, he returned to them later, in times of need and always with open arms. Thanks, guy I’ve used your business wisdom many times in my life, not having things always work out, but the thought that I had tried reminded me of you in your younger days.

Ken; (Mickey) The son with my Dad’s sense of humor, always taking the worst situation and finding something funny about it. You fill me with endless memories of laughter and making everything I did over the years, mean so much more. I’m not sure whether the love I had for you was shown over the years. But I think in some way you felt it. I say now, I loved you then, and will continue to love you well into the years that are ahead of me.

Deborah; (A twin) A sister with dreams I once had myself; going to a big city and making our name big, only to give the dream away to disappointment in myself and the family. Hurting only myself until I realized I am the only one that I could change, and feeling ashamed for trying to hide in the sorrow of bad memories. Instead of basking in the love that could have been. Had I only given my family the chances they gave me. Over the years, I was lost in the anger I felt for you. Now, with undying love, I hope we both find it in our hearts to love our family for who they each are, and not for whom we wanted them to be. I love you and ask that you hold onto today. Make a pledge to yourself to recall the many good times when you did see the true feelings of the family, a family which gave you the love that I too did not always feel.

David ;(Deborah’s twin) looked at as a lost soul meant only to cause trouble, I felt different. Although already a misfit because of a learning disability. He has shown his love to my mother. In so many ways all along, having thoughts of all the many things he had to go through to prove to the rest of us he too had feelings. Standing beside him in my thoughts throughout the years I’ve found him to still not show despair in his life, that really was left to anyone and everyone to judge, and hold with them only the bad times that he found, never seeing the true side of his loving heart the way I did and still do.

Benny; Another brother that, because of age difference I never really got to know all too well. Other than the comical side of him that stay, and becomes recalled every time I catch a mouse in a jar or have a bad day fishing remembering the funny incidents that he create in these situations when I was a child, Giving me the power to hold him dear to my heart.

Bonnie; Someone once told me that you held a secret to all the love that was felt in this family. Now watching as you take the time to care for our aging parents. I realize they were right that secret being the power to stand and face, what most or all the rest of us couldn’t. That being the soon to be loss of our mother and father. Your strength is a blessing giving me the feeling of relief knowing that if mom or dad ever were to feel the loss of one another that you for sure would be there to ease the others heart. I thank you for your dedication to them and wish at times I could be there with you to share in the last years, the pain and love that we the rest so boldly deny ourselves. Thanks.

Terry; The brother that was lost to me in the early years of his life is always still remembered as the drifter. God bless you brother.

Linda; Held in my thoughts as Miss Right, you always had the answers and never let anyone walk on you. You gave me courage enough to tell on the bad guys that crossed my life, and find energy to continue as myself not giving reasons any more to why or how the family has to scrap to show their love for each other. You taught me to stand my ground and show too how my love stays with them. Thanks for being there in later years with your words of encouragement I stand today in my own foot prints and now they are mine and mine only.

Agnes; The sister I feel held on to the dreams, that she had for herself, and now lives them as she lives in this world, watching the love and hardships she feels in her everyday life, watching her own children grow with the same values she grew up with. Only now she make their dreams real and recalls to them the days when she held only hopes that when they grow up they too will never give up and surrender to failure, I’m sure they too will be blessed with the power their ancestors leave them to discover in a more difficult world.

John; A comedian that to this day makes me wonder how he knew just when to be funny, always known in the family as a great fisherman, a skilled hunter and the bearer of the sons that are most likely to follow so closely in their father’s tracks. That they will always respect the values set upon them, as they grow up in the same village their daddy did, giving them the love for all the pleasures a simple life can give. I hold you close to my heart forever John Penny; You’ve given me the thing no one else could give me; that being the time to listen to the many mishaps that have come to haunt me, always showing that you care what I do with my life and giving me the encouragement to try again. Closeness has stayed with us that no one can ever take from us and over the years as I watch you raise your family that feeling has only become stronger. I thank you for your non-judgmental ways and leave you with my love, I hope it be enough to keep you company on lonesome days.

Patricia; your humble scribe through whose eyes this story is told. I want to show the world the inside of this large family, as I age throughout this book. I remember that without the love of my family. I too would only have left these thoughts open to be judged, by others in any form they choose. Instead I felt one of the seventeen should show their love and pride, holding for them in the words of a book that will give the world the knowledge of the secrets they held on to, and the dreams they made come true through the hardships they encounter throughout their lives.

Paul; (Paulene’s twin) Still grinning the unforgettable smile that now enchants the lives of many women, and gives them dreams of someday holding his heart as theirs. Playing the field has not left him empty the way so many have pictured him to be. He now poses the ability to succeed without help from his family, and it shows in his collection of belongings that took so much of his young life to receive, in some ways brought him back to us. Giving him the chance to feel the love that was lacking a better part of his youth and in doing so gave him the chance to trust in us once again. The closeness I feel for you, Paul lives each day of my life tucked away in a secret part of my heart, and will never be taken from me. I thank you for being my brother and standing with me through some of those times, when running away seemed to be the only answer. I’m glad I or you never went through with it.

Paulene; (Paul’s twin) Pushed and pulled about in this family I sometimes cry at the hard times I’ve cast upon you, wondering how I managed to keep your love. After all the childhood problems you’ve come through in flying colours. Now watching you caring for your own child I make this pledge to try and take the time I never gave to you, and see you through in the bad and good times you bring to me, I would like to try and hold the past as the one thing that we both have changed in our lives. Giving us the chance to see that children can be cruel and we too should learn to listen closely when they speak, of their hopes and fears. You will always be loved by me, no matter how awkward our lives become.

Myrna;(youngest girl) Being the youngest placed you in a spot that only left you with the choices given to you by others, as you grew so did your ability to overcome the taunting that you receive not only the ones made because of your weight, but the ones you lived as never being old enough to have your thoughts on matters be taken seriously. I myself had tried to give you equal time in my life but realize that could only have pacified you. You gave me the time to realize that even though you were younger, we were to be the same size someday. Now that the time has come I see that the years have given you so much to listen to, I open my ears to you any time you need someone just to listen and hope that you will come to me in your hour of need and feel that your problems can be solved with the help of your now much older sister.

Danny; (youngest boy) you’re being the youngest boy of the family, and the youngest child made it the hardest for me to watch, as you grew having so many other things that I had to do left me with very little time to play and be enriched by your youth. Although when you became older you were included as much as possible, it was these times that your love for the family showed. With your polite brave manners toward all that try to sway the family name that you so proudly carry all through the school years, trying to live up to the images set by all the others that had attend. I feel you accomplished the task of keeping the name unblemished more than it had already been and congratulate you in doing so. I hope that in the aging process you felt more loved and needed as I’m sure you have; now being the father of your own children. And I know that you will tell these stories I write to your own children, and laugh with them as you go back to a time you can relate to when in need of them.

Ma; With your sturdy outer frame and open hearted ways, how you managed to keep the house yard and your seventeen children in line and almost all happy I have no way of knowing how you did this without being taken to some loony bin. I know from living in the days that show in this book that there were times that you should have turned your back on the crowd, and left them to fend for themselves, this would have been justly deserved by many that disobey your orders and put you through the worry filled nights that I’m sure gave you the feeling of failure. But not letting those times get you down, you continued to love all equally and hold on to the dream of this family that someday they would all have children that act the same as their parents, had in their younger days, and in their frustration and loss of words recall the times you looked at them with the same doubts as they try to solve the numerous problems that will arise in their own children’s lives, and take your advice. When I myself recall all the warmth and love that never had to be put in words to be felt, the feeling of gratefulness crush my heart and make me wish that in these years of your aging I could have foreseen the hardships I and others gave you, if I could I would take them back leaving you with only happy incidents to recall over your cups of tea as I now sit on occasion and listen to you and your sister talk of younger days that were filled with your children’s mischief, giving you endless heart aches that to this day haunt you. Well mom I ‘m sorry for the heartbreaks I cast upon you, and know that the cuffs I did receive as a child were given only to show me another side of your devotion to make me see the dangers that could have taken me from your side forever, and I wish to thank you. For you gave me all you could and now I see that it was more than enough to carry me through life, and hold as golden rules that prove to be useful, if only to keep me sane on days when nothing goes my way. Bless you ma your love and devotion to your family will stand strong for every one that disbelieve, as they read in the words of this book, I hope in their effort to read it they see and feel the way you did, making them experience the life I’m sure no one could have lived any better than you.

Dad; How you managed to live with emptied pockets and torn thoughts of your children that consumed your very being, throughout your hard work filled life amazes me, your ability to keep a roof and food on our table was a challenge that I’m sure ten men would have not been able to do. And the trust and wisdom you shared with us still linger giving me a power to succeed to the best I can with the images of your courage coming out to wrap itself around me, and give me the strength to carry through the hard times in my life. It always reminds me of the hardships you withstood only to vanish in the opening of your heart to others holding in them a trust that never seemed to fail. You did your best Dad, and we all are thankful for your courage and we know at times the doubts of our love came so close to taking you away to a life that would have been much easier to wake to each day, giving you a piece of mind that would have been yours and only yours. Thanks for never leaving. I’m sure if it had been me the temptation of escaping the hectic life of having seventeen children looking to me for guidance, I would never have been able to face them the way you did always giving them hope for the future, drying the tears and allowing them to be themselves showing them that they were blood, no matter what anyone say they would have each other.

Home (and what it means to me)

The fields that I ran so wildly in as a child, that surround our barn shaped house that sits in the middle of a small village that can be found along Highway 2 a stone’s throw in either direction of Brighton and Trenton, both small towns in Southern Ontario. Sitting on the side of a hill with a neighborhood of people that care for each other the way one single family would, holding on to each dream, watching their children learn the values that a small community has to offer. With streets that in my childhood held the houses in rows never fenced to strangers leaving yards as one giving the children spaces to discover, and respect as their own, building a trust that only this small village would show to the world in times of need, leaving it to grow with its children that would never let it slip from their hearts as they age, and find their own lives, some coming back to show their respects the odd time. Our barn shaped house that became the center of attention as it held the largest family in the area numbering seventeen, with its three stories of life filled walls bending in the fullness of laughter, love and heartaches it still stand strong even though a little less full of our bodies, but still holding the warmth and care that it gave us throughout our lives still covering the parents of the children, that return to the now aging parents sides for comfort, as they to grow older and wiser. Holding the memories that only seem to be forgotten until told to the next generation of children that will too know it’s warmth, giving them the comfort and shelter in a storm as it did their parents, always being open to their visits that to will be held in the walls of its barn shaped frame. Home to me is also the creek that bubble along its rock filled path as it caught the tears of this young girl in times of sorrow and joy giving to her the hopes and dreams that her life to was flowing to a much bigger outlet in the world that had many fascinating experiences to show to her always soothing her thoughts and lifting her heart to face another day making its self a part of her home that has never been forgotten. Home is the many arms of brothers and sisters that reach out to me in times of need with the understanding of my feelings, and held to the promises of always being there for one another, along our journey’s in a world that would prove to be lacking in love and make the love we hold for each the strength that would place us above all loses and broken hopes giving us something that no other family could ever have, that being the power of our souls to stand as one.

One late spring day I arouse around eight, as I kicked the blankets back I could smell the fresh bacon cooking, that had come from the previous year’s pigs. Scamper from the bedroom to the kitchen, which at that time was just outside the door. Six children including myself slept in my parents room at the time trying to be the first one up was hard to do as it seemed ma was always awake and had done the chores, before we had even rolled over the last time before waking. After a hardy breakfast it was time to go and play. My favorite thing to do was run as fast as I could down passed the barn scarring the death half out of the chickens, around the pasture and past the cedars i would go, just beyond and there it was a beautiful iris, that had been discarded years ago when ma had cleaned the flower beds. I was amazed with its cloudy blue colour, and sweet smell. I have never forgotten it. Hurrying back to the house voices fill the air, as I approached the door the house seemed over filled with people, all managing to have their breakfast. My younger brother and sister would be midway into a fight, and ma she’d be in there between them trying to settle their minds. Meanwhile an older sister sits quietly combing her dolls hair.

When everyone had left for work or school, myself and younger brothers and sisters would watch our favorite morning shows. We would pester ma for paper and stuff to do whatever they were doing on TV. This would keep us occupied while ma prepared her bread dough for that night’s supper.

Every now and then I would enjoy watching ma do this, it seemed she kneaded the dough so ruffle but yet her hands were so tender. When I would hurt myself she would pick me up brush me off and make me feel better. I’ve always been amazed at how evenly her love was disturbed, with her seventeen children I believe her warmth and love was felt by all.

Usually when someone made trouble there would be a small investigation into who put who up to what, yet when the truth was heard it would sometimes be laughed off, but when it was serious we all learnt a lesson.

By mid-afternoon we all would have become obnoxious and end up having a nap. This gave ma a chance to go to the barn, she’d water the hens, cows, pigs, dogs along with any other animals we had. After this we’d hear the clatter of pots and pans, meaning ma was either peeling potatoes or getting the tins ready for the bread. Waking from our nap shortly before dad entered was normal, as nobody wanted to miss the treats he would save from his lunch. I think ma would make him extra just so everyone got something, just so as there was no arguments, so dad could relax in the quiet or at least be undisturbed before supper.

Dad was a simple man with simple habits every night after giving us his lunchbox, he’d grab his newspaper, sit in his favorite chair, have a quick glance, then place the paper on the floor beside his bed, then return to the table for his supper.

Meals where always huge, they were filled with variety for the amount of bellies they had to fill. Two tables were needed to occupy all of us, one for the younger kids, and one for adults or almost adult, at this time i was placed at the table for little kids, mom would say not one meal could go by without a fight, Paul chasing Paulene with beans, or peas she’d be screaming and crying. Another kid would be choking grossing out everyone else. By the time the fighting or whatever was over so was supper. Then came time to argue over who was going to do dishes, all in all meals where very interesting.

Six o’clock news time everyone either sat quietly in the TV room or sat elsewhere. Paul or John would try to get us laughing, they’d be sent out of the room, and not be allowed back until they could sit quietly. A short evening of TV and it was time for bed, crawling into the thick homemade quilt I felt relieved in a sense of comfort. Everyone would whisper to try to and stay awake, but before long there was only silence in that old house.

When I was a child everything had its value. A lot of things; flowers, friends even a small puppy, they all had a part in my life’s value. Hard times to me meant high feed or hay prices, or too little rain for the gardens. Everything was so natural it gave me a real feeling of belonging to the earth. To have the freedom to run, jump and shout at the top of our lungs made all of us appreciate private spaces.

My parents must have had a hard time finding good deals money then was hard to come by, spending it wisely with this many children was even harder. When they spent it on food and clothing. We were taught to make the best of these values. Never leaving anything on our plates helped, we also had two sets of clothes. Our good set and a set of grubbies for playing around outdoors, this way nothing wore out too fast.

I always liked the grubbies. I guess with the change from clean and well kept away would go the pressure of the school day.

Our lives where simple, yet I don’t think we lacked in anything, we really needed. We always had someone to play with because there where so many of us, almost all of us had a pet, whether we looked after it or left it for mom to care for. Our property was huge, or at least it was in this child’s mind all the room to run, jump, climb trees, do just about anything a kid would want.

My parents raised us to respect our elders, always share toys and never talk back, and if someone was in trouble or hurt get an adult. All in all we tried our best to get along, have fun and love one another.

On my way to school for the first time I remember arguing with my mom that I had to say good-bye to all my animals before leaving. I felt they would never forgive me for leaving them alone all day. Crossing the field I meet some neighbor kids, that were just starting, suddenly my heart was at ease.

My desk was front row near a window, this pleased me very much. The teacher seemed very nice, but then maybe all teachers were nice on the day. Although she seemed pleasant to me all the time I had her. An hour and a half of learning to print and it was time for recess. I remember dashing down the hall to where the shoes and boots were kept, placing my foot in my shoe bending to tie them I realize I was the only kid who could tie their own. So of course I ended up helping tie everyone’s. By now I had lots of friends, we swung, ran and jumped even had time for a game of hopscotch then back to class. More reading and writing and then lunch. I had to walk home for that, but it always gave me a chance to say hi to my animals and reassure them I’d be back later. A nice homemade soup or maybe even hot dogs made up lunch it was a kid’s dream. It seemed that lunch hour was the fastest time of the day, my afternoon was filled with story time, gym class, then more reading and writing, at three fifteen it was time to go home.

As soon as we entered the house we had to change clothes, so we wouldn’t get our school ones dirty. Then out we would go to play. We’d play for some time until dad would drive up and we’d all mob him for his lunch box, not long after the fights over the lunchbox where over it was time for supper.

A bright and sunny day in June held clear skies. Rising early in the morning Paul and I set out to walk the meandering banks of Smithfield creek. Paul fished often and occasionally I was invited. We’d go passed the school and over the coral fence, watching the sun fall down over an old pine that hung part the way over the creek, here we’d practice catching chub a small silver bellied fish so that we’d be ready for the big ones. We edged our way through the brush, over rocks and logs until we’d come to what seemed to be one of Paul’s favorite spots. On this day he had pretty well decided we would not catch any fish even the smaller practice ones seemed to pass up our bait, when all of a sudden Paul’s rod began to bend he reeled it hard finding he had caught the biggest fish ever, the snap the line stung the air Paul was after it in a second. He landed flat on his belly in the water struggling to hold the line he managed to get a hold on the fish. Flinging it to shore not realizing he had tossed it straight at me, it hit me in the chest, well I grabed it then threw it to the ground, putting a foot on it to stop its attempt to flop back in to the crystal water of the creek, Paul scampered to my side with a huge grin on his face.

It truly was the biggest fish he had caught. Jumping and yelling as we crossed through the shadows of the well-treed back roads home to show Ma, she was also full of cheer to see such a prize. Well for weeks we bragged about that fish. Stories so overwhelming that by the time we decided everyone knew about it, it was ten pounds and over three feet long. After this experience I became like a lucky charm to Paul and was invited along more often

As I look back to the time between the ages of four and seven I recall us not having an inside bathroom, only an outhouse with its slant roof and not so pleasantly scented it stood only a few yards away from the back door handy at most times. It was easy to live within the daytime, as we played outside all day, but when night came it was a different story, ma would line us up outside the door, it was do your job and get out there where at least six at bed time that had to go. A lot of us wet the bed until the inside washroom was built. I remember that day well, every kid was in Dad’s way. He didn’t appreciate that but he felt our excitement too, knowing it might make it easier on ma come wash day, hoping we’d get up during the night and use it, some of us did.

My first year of school was over before I knew it. I had pretty well gotten into the routine of school days by the time summer holidays had come. Summer was always fun rising whenever and staying up until ten or eleven, sometimes even later, when aloud. Although I had time for fun at this age, in later years I’d probably be put to work on the farm in summers to come. I guess I remember our long deserved, or should I say my dad’s long deserved holidays best. It was a trip fifty miles away to a small cottage in the north.

Its funny this cottage was a one room, with a small porch attached, it was all open to whatever roamed at night. I recall more than one time when we would be awakened to the moos of a herd of cattle that had come to drink in the lake. Everyone was crazy with the thought that the cows might come on the porch and trample us. After a while they would simply get bored with our screams and wander away. After ma fed us we would spend time fishing, and swimming, a whole two weeks of leisure then back to the farm.

Not long after summer break was over a change would come over the land. Shorter days and a flurry of colour filled the trees; we knew it wouldn’t be long until it was winter. It seemed as I walked to school the grass below my feet spoke to me but it was only the frost that had come to colour the leaves. It won’t be long before we would have to start the yearly slaughter for the meat from our farm animals, this was what fed us all winter.

This was very hard on mom, she had practically raised every creature on the farm. On the day the slaughter was to take place we had to stay inside until the bigger animals were killed cows and pigs that we once feed, were all of a sudden silent. We were allowed to help with the beheading of the chickens, this seemed so cruel yet without them we would have starved. Mom always worked to put up enough preserves to carry us through the cold months. I recall watching her teach the older girls just how much vinegar to use, or to make sure you tighten the jars again after they cool. A lot of time would pass just holding on to the remnants of a fruitful summer.

October was marvelous for me I extremely enjoyed thanksgiving and Halloween. As I recall every kid in the neighborhood had come to our place for treats; you see my mom was one of the few that handed out homemade goodies. Everyone loved the good stuff, I even tried to fool her so as I could get some extra. We always made our own costumes going as cats, clowns, even pirates. The church held parties to celebrate, we would go and bob for apples and play games. Some of the older kids had traditional things they would do, like turning over a few out houses, soaping windows and a few other things.

Winter hit us hard that year, there must have been five feet of snow it was great for us kids but for dad it was tiring. He spent most of his time on the road, as he worked for the township.

Sometimes it seemed as though he was gone for days, stopping for short rest times, he always said that old saying about snow, sleet nor hail he would not fail just so we could go to school. Sometimes I’d wish he would have failed just to save the bother of fighting the heavy clothes that were needed to go out into the weather. After the storms dad would get a few days off.

We always had a few dogs around over the winter, I would tie ropes together for a harness to fit them, then I’d attach them to a sleigh pretending to be in the great Arctic. About one trip around the yard and the dogs would break loose. Then I’d spend the rest of play time chasing them around the village. I think everyone around there thought I was crazy. Deer dogs don’t make good sleigh dogs. A good snowball fight was always easy to start, there were always lots of other kids to join in, nobody ever really won but we sure had fun. Winter although cold was always fun for us kids

The first Christmas that I remember was very exciting; we had the best dressed house in the village. My mother went out of her way to make this time of year special for all of us. She spent hours making stockings to hang, she made all kinds of homemade sweets to be set out on Christmas morning. The tree was so spectacular with its shiny glass balls, and popcorn strings that gave at least two or three kids sore fingers for some time afterward from making. Of course it was always topped with a star. The tree of course only had gifts for other people under it, until that special morn when Santa had finished his hard nights work. Every year we would wake around four, run down the stairs past the table laden with candy, cookies, and my favorite thing the gum drop tree. A look at the tree made all our hearts jump for there it stood only the star visible. I have always wondered how they could afford all the gifts we received. We’d set to work sorting them out into piles for each of us, we all knew that none were to be opened until dad was up. Out he’d come in his long johns a bit tipsy from one to many cheers the night before. He’d say, boy that old fat man must of got tired and left the rest of his load here, these can’t all be for this house, of course we’d reply they have our names on them. Mom would bring him a coffee he’d say a name and that kid would get to open a gift, this way we could all enjoy the look on each other’s face when they got what they asked for. I seemed to always get dolls although they were very nice, I recall asking Santa more than once for a deluxe farm set, I never received this and I remember asking ma why Santa never brought it. She said it was because we lived on a farm, that was more real than any toy was.

A couple times during the day people would come to visit. This was great for us kids it gave us the chance to show off our new toys. Christmas dinner was always at noon, everyone would pitch in to put it together, back then there was only twenty five or so of us to feed, older brothers and sisters married, their kids all included. Everyone got along fine at this time of year I think this made my parents very happy, sometimes I think now that if only it could have stayed that way forever.

Among the gifts there was always new sleds, this was great seeing as we only lived a short distance from a hill. There were a few arguments about who would go first, but it wasn’t too long before we’d be playing together as one. At the bottom of this hill someone had put a post in I think it was to mark the property line. Paulene a younger sister decided to ride down backwards, well it didn’t take long for her to gain speed, and we were all yelling at her to jump off as she headed straight for the post. We could hear her say what, and then it was to late she collided head on. We all waited to see if she was going to get up. But not this time, so we all ran down the hill to see if she was okay, as we got to her under teary sobs she said you guys were supposed to tell me if I was going to crash, we all laughed. About an hour or so after lunch a bunch of neighborhood kids would come along and we’d all decide to make snow forts, well it wasn’t long until there was a major snowball fight break out. This sometimes would end in a real battle some of us where a little light tempered. On occasion someone might even end up getting fished out of the pond. I remember every kid had to try the sticking their tongue to metal trick. I talked one of my friends into drinking from a metal pail we used to draw water from the well. Boy did she look funny with that pail hanging from her face, and she wasn’t allowed to play with me after that for a long time. We spent a lot of time outside in the winter, and we never really got sick, I think the cold must have killed a lot of the germs that went around, because a lot of other kids ended up staying in all winter, and they seemed sick a lot. Sometimes when we’d get bored we’d wait until we saw someone out shoveling their driveway. Then we’d move in as close as possible without being noticed then bomb them like crazy. For a long, time they’d even run into their homes to get away, other times they’d just threaten to call our parents. We all thought it was great until we got home, then boy were we in trouble. The melting of the snow, the greening of the grass, the labour of new livestock coming to life was a sure sign of spring. Like the rebirth of the land in the farmer’s eyes there is nothing more pleasing. New smells fill the air, and plans for a new crop began. I remember one spring we had two pigs give birth at the same time, each having a litter of around ten. One mother rejected all her young this is where my mother’s kindness to all things came out. Ma made the decision to take these young ones in till they could fend for themselves. She put them into baskets and brought them into the house, she put them beside the wood stove that sat in our kitchen for warmth. I guess I remember the smell most of all, it was strange yet not unclean. She would allow us to help in the feed of these pigs, because there was so many of them. It was exciting to try and convince these little squirming pigs that this was good for them. Finally we decided that they would do quite well with the other litter, that hadn’t had their mother leave them. Before long it was hard to tell the two litters apart, they grew just as fat and squirmy. After the animals had reached a size that would allow us to let them into the runs with other pigs, but after they broke through a fence or two we would at times be called to a neighbor’s home to retrieve them. Sticks in hand a line of four or five of us would round up the bunch of squealing scared pigs that at all chances took a break from our control. After some time we’d have them home and penned once again. This became very interesting some of us had devised a game out of it. We called it pork riding, it was fun to try and stay on top of a fat porker with nothing to hang on to except the hair that all pigs are known for. After a few times of watching us dad thought it might be better for us if we put a saddle aboard one of them, we’d probably stay on longer, I think this in some way was a personal joke he had to see, Well it seemed like it was a great idea to us kids, and we accomplished the task to the insane laughs of our elders. Everyone agreed that Paul would be the first to brave the already very upset pig ride. He took his mount and around the yard the crazy pig ran, jumping and finally it stopped, then when everyone thought it wasn’t going to run any more, it fell to its side and began to roll about as though it were in a mud bath. Well Paul was soon under the animal yelling atop his lungs for help. This taught us a valuable lesson. Not only are pigs good for pork chops, but that they are also no good for riding.

On Canada’s birthday every year we were allowed to light off fireworks. My parents allowed only so many each, but we would save up any money we had to add to whatever they bought. One year we were all showing off to see who was the bravest. My brothers held them in their hands until just before exploding. One brother even stood atop a whole pile and danced as they burst apart with noise it was spectacular. I myself decided to perform the most daring feat of all. So I made a belt of them, tied it around my waist had one of the boys lite them for me. Did I ever jump, not only did the fire crackers go, but so did my shirt. As a walking ball of flames, I ran like hell to the ditch alongside our property and began to roll in whatever lay in the runoff from the village. Meanwhile someone told on us. Ma she came a running madder than a wet hen. Boy I was wishing I’d burnt up when she was through with me. That ended us having fireworks of our own.

This experience was not to be my only with fire. I remember my sister along with her friend asking me to go with them to the woods behind the school. Here we had built a fort, out of branches, and pine needles made the walls. We decided to have lunch there; one of the other kids got some hot dogs from their house. We made a small fire or at least we thought that it was a small fire. Little did we know that pine needles burn real fast. We all tried so hard to put it out, it just wasn’t working and it seemed to spread very fast. The only thing to do was get out and be somewhere else when the fire department got there. Covered in ashes touched by the odd spark burn, and heavily smelling of smoke, we tried sneaking in the back door. When we tried there was mom asking if we had seen the fire. Not noticing the shape we were in as we stood listening to her words of wonderment to why someone would try to burn grass on such a windy day. Not saying anything we went to our room and changed. No one knew any different until sometime later that year when one of the other girls had let it slip out in conversation. Since I can remember my mother never liked storms. Especially when thunder and lightning accompanied it. As soon as the first bolt hit whether five miles away or overhead, ma had the TV off and unplugged, the chair away from under the phone and no one was allowed to sit near a window. Maybe it was out of fear or just plain experience from when she was a child, she often told us stories of the tornadoes and floods she had experienced, some quite frightening. A storm to me was and still is wonderful. I love to watch the fearsome clouds graying as it rolls over the fields, clambering its way toward me as it arouses the bravery in my soul. To be able to collect the thoughts of something so naturally strong arrive with such fearsome beauty. Only to leave a fresh life giving essence in its departure that being the rain. Like sheets the rain would fall, leaving a new luster over the land as it past. Leaving the smell of wet flowers bent with the weight of the fresh droplets. Or the view of the wet grass reaching for the newly sunned sky. All these things make me wish that if only all the world’s problems could get rained on, and they too would be renewed. My heart will always be with that small village nestled nicely on the side of a hill. Smithfield some folks think all started with the O’Briens, only because there were so many of us. A community so friendly and quiet is a dream to a lot of people, but it’s home to me. When I walk down the main street I see old romping grounds. The old folks wave when seeing the blonde hair and remarking to each other THAT’S ONE OF THEM O’BRIENS COME HOME FOR SOME FRESH AIR. A friendly gesture and on I walk, off to the old school remembering when I ran in the track and field events. The thoughts of being one of the best they had in those times, a flash of memories and I’m rerunning the races over and over in my head. Thinking of how they rewarded me. The trophies I still have to this day, polishing them makes me yearn for younger days.

Passing by our church a stately old building with its lovely old stained glass windows and its huge hardwood doors. Takes me to the many Sundays we attended Sunday school held in the basement. The occasional time they were even held in the large well shaded yard, with its ground cover of wild violets and rich green canopy of maples, such a peaceful place. A day or two in the summers were set aside for what we called hay days. An event that the whole neighborhood looked forward to. There were games, races, and a