Zip

By Roxsane Tiernan

There will always be secrets. There have always been secrets. Sometimes the secrets are there because our knowing minds just dont want to remember. Sometimes we dont want to go there period. Some of my life has been like that but I have been blessed with an amazing memory from age two and a half forward with very rare gaps. I constantly hear I wish I had your memory. Would life be easier if I didnt remember? Maybe but it wouldnt come near the rich to overflowing life Ive had.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503590809

Roxsane Tiernan

Roxsane [Zip} is an energetic, compulsive, hard working 75 year old. She has caring, community oriented siblings, two wonderful daughters and five grand children. Her wide circle of friends are scattered all over the globe and at home she has a wonderful man named , Bill, who makes her life complete. Roxsane’s early life was challenging but she completed her Teacher’s training at UBC, taught in a one room ungraded [Grades 1-8] school on Harrison Lake, married George Dheilly and together they raised three beautiful daughters. The youngest, Marcia, died of a brain tumor in 1981. Their marriage fell apart in 1983/1984. Needing to find more meaning in her life after the girls left home she decided to go back to University to finish her B.Ed. and get back to the most meaningful career she could find, teaching at the high school level. Since then she has worked in Mexico, traveled extensively and taught international students and immigrants before retiring becoming a prolific artist and author. Life is not fair. The most important lesson Zip taught many students. Students from many foreign places who still phone out of the blue at 4:30am just to talk or young friends of her daughters who email a plea to help them understand their partner’s needs—ASK THEM---how to keep their marriage going---SPEND QUALITY TIME TOGETHER—BE UPFRONT AND HONEST---be patient with life, it’s not finished with you yet.

Book preview

ZIP

____________

Roxsane Tiernan

Copyright © 2015 by Roxsane Tiernan.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 08/17/2015

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

718074

INDEX

Prologue

Preface

Zips Dad

Zips Mom

The First Five

The Steveston Years

Settling In North Delta

Problems

Thinking It Over

Stu, Transitions

Burnaby Orchids, Challenges

Wedding, Little Yvette

Building Their Home

Guiding

Trip To Quebec

Marcia

Serendipity ’83

Family Problems

Motoko And Japan

Yvette’s Wedding

Mary

Learning French

Off To Our Cabana

CMHA

Returning To Teaching And Marketing

Changing Her Name

Finding Mister Right

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

M any friends, students and acquaintances said that I should write a book. They asked what religion I foll owed?

What made me the person with all the positive (and negative) attributes I have?

Well, I started to write several segments of this book three or four times. I don’t think I could have published it before both my parents died, but I had to write it.

Having left home at 17 to live with my Aunt and Uncle in town in order to take Grade 13 so I could go on to the teacher training program at UBC I was not at home when my brothers and sisters grew up. They were 11, 9, 8, 6, and 4 years old when I left. My youngest sister wasn’t even born. I only got to know them as the helpful, hard working individuals they are after I got married and had children of my own. Even then, distance was a factor as we lived on Harrison Lake, in Sardis, in Surrey, and Squamish so getting together required some effort. However, whenever I needed help they were there.

Though the first part of this life of mine was difficult, in the end I became a strong, capable mother, teacher and companion. I’ve always been happy teaching, explaining the logic behind taxation, the challenges of being just, the problems caused or causing inequality and more. I have learned so much and become a better global citizen and mentor because I learned from my students. It took me a long time to learn that if I knew what I wanted to have from life there was a good possibility I could have it. I’ve had a lot of support getting here from my friends, relatives and others. I have an extensive global network of friends and supportive siblings. I hope you will realize you can get here from wherever you are. Changing my name did make a difference but I was well on my way to becoming the current me before that. As you will see, Guiding (Girl Scouts in many parts of the world) and teaching were door openers encouraging me to continue my personal growth and global networking.

More on the latter in my next book. RKT.

PREFACE

T here will always be secrets. There have always been secrets. Sometimes the secrets are there because our knowing minds just don’t want to remember. Sometimes we don’t want to go there – period. Some of my life has been like that but I have been blessed with an amazing memory from age two and a half forward with very rare gaps. I constantly hear I wish I had your memory. Would life be easier if I didn’t remember? Maybe but it wouldn’t come near the rich to overflowing life I’ve had.

ZIPS DAD

H e was a small man—about five feet seven inches possibly with delusions of grandeur. He was born May 7 th , 1915 in Calgary, Alberta to a family whose ancestors came from England and Scotland. One ancestor arrived in Eastern Canada from Yorkshire in 1754 so they were the descendants of early settlers—definitely Canadian. His mother told Zip she fed him raisins to increase his body temperature so he could go off to school in the winter in a sweater. She told Zip as a child he had watched his parents weeding the garden and went behind pulling out the tiny plants they had left behind. He had a younger brother and two younger sisters but his mother liked him best.

Zip’s grandfather valued people with excellent language skills. He wanted his son to be able to read the newspaper in French. Zip believed that Grandpa was proud his son could entertain—playing the violin or dancing with his youngest sister on stage at the best hotel in Calgary. Her grandmother had been a very competent legal secretary. Her grandfather worked in the appliance section of a hardware store installing gas stoves and such. They were solid middle class.

Zip’s Dad learned many things in school—he was good in Math and in Art he won an award for painting frost- the intricate lacy patterns on frozen Window Panes. He loved to dance and he knew how—not like the others who just did their best to keep time to the music. He loved good music and he knew the difference. He had played the violin at one time.

He loved good food—carefully prepared and presented with flair. It could be turkey dinner, Chinese or Italian. Just as long as it was done right. In the Army he had been a chef. He had spent a lot of time in Italy during the war totally immersed in the Italian culture. He loved the pasta, the pizza, their warm yellow red kitchens and their Opera. He went to the Opera whenever he could. He loved how the Italians sang whenever the spirit moved them—laying bricks, in the garden or having Grappa with friends. He loved gardens—neatly kept, carefully tended not like theirs.

He lectured at Garden Clubs and warmed to the little old ladies who had nothing to do but grow the best beets or sweet peas. He had little time or patience with his wife or his seven children. They were flawed and he lived so close with them that their flaws especially the ones he shared were magnified.

He loved to learn. He had encyclopedic books—huge tomes of MRS. BEATON’S COOKERY, several volumes on every facet of horticulture and of course the latest encyclopedia. No one should handle his books. He had a copy of Plato’s Republic Zip wanted to read but she couldn’t be trusted to care for it. She should borrow it from the library. He wanted his family to be brilliant so he could be proud of them. Zip remembers how impressed he was many years later when they went to a Chinese restaurant and Zip ordered Dim Sum in Cantonese. He had a flair for languages himself, a trait Zip was fortunate to inherit. He believed in strict discipline, especially when he came home from the Army. If he gave Zip an order she wasn’t supposed to think about it. He meant now. Zip is sure she got more strappings than the rest.

When he couldn’t make a living as a florist or a nursery owner he studied carpentry learning how to read blueprints. Then he started to work, first putting together/ assembling pre-fab houses. Then he moved along to be foreman on bigger construction projects and later became the superintendent. The workmen respected his knowledge, his talent for conviviality. They often came seeking advice or if unemployed, a connection to a job.

He wished his wife and his home were elegant enough to entertain the owners of the companies he worked for. He was ambitious, wanting to climb the social ladder. He bought a boat, took Power Squadron courses. At times on a drive he would stop to visit someone leaving his wife and children in the car for a long time just waiting for him. His lack of status was a constant disappointment. He was a perfectionist in a very imperfect world. At times he was a big fish in a small pond but he always wanted to be in the bigger pond. If he bought a camera it had to be the best — he wanted the best of everything, but neither he nor his wife could make the money go around.

With his family he was long on criticism and short on praise. If you lived next door he would be much kinder than to his own family. They did go to church in the early years. He got along with the minister and helped with building or local projects there. As his life got busier he rarely mentioned church or God. He had seen the Vatican. He had no use for the Catholic Church and as an Anglican he fell away from the church.

His training as a Sergeant in the Army remained with him forever. He was always the boss. Zip’s mother polished his shoes, brushed his hat and did her best to keep him happy. If they worked on a project all day, and were pleased with what they had done hoping for a little praise, within five minutes of his arrival he’d pinpoint something they had missed. No wonder Zip saw school as a haven. Any place was better than home. He promoted education, but when Zip needed his signature to get a loan to go to university she never got it. However, a few years later he signed loan forms for a foreign friend of her brother. He pushed Zip to develop a larger vocabulary, but being a bit of a rebel she tried to always explain things in simple terms. Zip decided not to join a sorority because he promoted them. She would achieve her status on her own merit, not because of the friends she made.

Later in life he would develop grape varieties that were suited to the sun and soil of British Columbia. When Zip went to tell him in 1995 how much being raped by him changed her life, and left him the poetry she’d written. he constantly changed the subject to how well he was thought of for his efforts and understanding of grapes, and viticulture, but she shut that out. She could not admire that. He couldn’t even apologize.

Zip left feeling disgusted. In 2010 she met someone who knew he had been an asset to BC wine growers—yes, he had made his contribution to society.

Photo%201.jpg

Zip’s Dad 1939

ZIPS MOM

H er Mother was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba on October 25 th , 1917, the youngest of eight surviving children. Her mother and father had come from Ireland with the two oldest siblings. Her father was a street railway man. Her eldest brother was a journalist working for the Winnipeg Tribune. He later moved to the Calgary Herald. The family followed him. Towards the end of the depression most of her Mom’s siblings worked for Eaton’s department store. Just before the War began her oldest brother found a new job at a local radio station in Vancouver, and again his brothers, two sisters [the unmarried ones], his Mother and Father followed. As a result there were cousins for Zip to play with; to be compared to.

Zip’s Mother was a woman who worked at heavy physical labor most of her life. She often opted for the lie she wanted to believe, not the harsh truths of life. She was petite, 5 foot 2 inches tall with a slight build. She loved attention—from males especially. She could be planting bulbs at 4 o’clock, her hands stained from the soil, but if she had the rare opportunity to attend a function in the evening she would come in to quickly have a bath, arrange her hair, soak her hands in lemon juice, do her nails and put on the best outfit she had.

She had a sense of humour, thank goodness, and an even greater sense of duty to her husband, her family, and to society. She did whatever was necessary for their survival. She cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, dug ditches, planted berries, shrubs, the vegetable garden, the grapes, everything. She canned fruits and vegetables in the summer and fall. She tried not to waste anything. She made a lot of their clothes and served them tomato sandwiches fresh from the vine all summer.

She tried to keep their lives interesting. They had a few cinnamon hearts on Valentines, something green on St Patrick’s Day, and new underwear and socks at Easter so the crows wouldn’t laugh at them. She’d been taught to shun Catholics and had problems with foreigners, but she taught Zip to be tolerant. Even during the war Zip’s prayers always ended with God bless Daddy, and the Germans, and the Japanese. Her mother had trouble understanding accents, and if someone spoke another language she was sure they were talking about her. Nothing good, of course. Her taste in Magazines ran to True Confessions and True Story. She read Lady Chatterley’s Lover, too. She liked popular music—not Western music, and never Opera. She was a great Elvis fan preferring him to her generation’s Frank Sinatra. She made Zip’s youngest brother Mike and Zip matching pink corduroy and charcoal grey outfits for Christmas. Zip often sang songs that expressed her feelings. Zip’s mother often told Zip her voice wasn’t good enough to sing. Maybe it was her choice of songs. WHY BABY WHY?

When Zip was a sickly little kid during the war her Mom cared for her doing her very best. Zip felt she owed her a lot, so when Zip started teaching she bought her Mom fake fur coats, and a few fancy things. Zip can’t say she really understood her Mom, and Zip mostly felt her Mom hadn’t a clue what made Zip tick.

Zip’s mother was a sensuous woman. Zip tried to avoid sex most of her life. Sex spelled trouble, and guilt mixed with longing, desire, and confusion. A good part of Zip’s life she wore baggy clothes—no more sweaters with designs at bust level—her father thought they were wonderful. Zip wanted to look attractive but definitely not sexy. Every now and then she broke the code. When Zip met Bill she was wearing purple leotards and a colorful skort. Outside of her children very few people really know Zip. She teaches confusion well. Save ten percent of your income; don’t forget to do your share for humanity; don’t waste (Things, time, opportunities), and while you are at it have fun. These things Zip learned from her parents.

Back to what Zip learned from her mother—EXPECT RESPECT—life without it isn’t worth much. You become a drone. Don’t settle for anything less. Life can be wonderful. When Zip is hurt, confused, angry—she looks for a course to take, another door to open, a meaningful project, a different focus. For her that is much better than stewing over things—eventually they will sort. One of Zip’s sisters slept on her problems waking up refreshed, maybe even with a solution. Zip’s Mother stored her hurts, her frustrations, and her anger for days, weeks even months, then suddenly lost her Irish temper… Everyone handles things differently.

Her mother saw flaws in everyone—if they had a big house they must owe a bundle; if they were enjoying a party they must be drinking too much, be out of control. There was always some way she or they were better. Even when she had Alzheimer’s she felt that the other clients or care aides stole her teeth, her watch, the pepper and salt from the tables in the dining room. Those people whoever they were, were thieves.

She had a few pieces of jewelry; an opal ring, a Black Alaska Diamond ring a cameo broach, two bracelets one of ivory, one of jade that she gave to Zip, and later on the same bracelets to each of her sisters. These bracelets were to be treasured so they were kept in a safe place. Zip has