Stepping Stones of My Life

By René Robertson

This memoir of a childhood in constant flux and readjustment is this woman's candid perspective on life, uncertainty, and the struggles and joys of a large family that included a brother, Felix, who was born mute and with hydrocephalus. Entering adulthood and setting out to Saint John, NB, to establish her own footing, she encounters yet more challenges: marriage, moving back to Ontario and raising two children while juggling a career, and even being in the spotlight as a pastor's wife. With so many people these days whose lives are constantly uprooted, René's story offers encouragement and a true sense of the way home. This is a collection of heartwarming stories, hardships, depression, seeking and triumph.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Dec 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9780228869320

René Robertson

Born in Toronto, ON, Canada, to Polish immigrants, a twin in a family of 5 children, this baby boomer grew up with many adventures. This is her first book, following a 23-year careerin dental hygiene and 15 years in retail and her own business ventures. She has been married to her husband, Geoff, for 37 years, and has supported him in his work as a pastor ofchurches in Toronto and Hamilton, ON. She is the mother of two grown children, Brianne and Lynn. She currently resides in a lakeside village, operating a B&B with Geoff.

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Copyright © 2022 by René Robertson

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

978-0-2288-6933-7 (Hardcover)

978-0-2288-6931-3 (Paperback)

978-0-2288-6932-0 (eBook)

Table of Contents

About the Author

Summary

Foreword

Chapter 1 - Before I Stepped onto the Scene

Chapter 2 - The Early Steps

Chapter 3 - Uncertain Steps

Chapter 4 - Challenging Steps

Chapter 5 - One Step Forward, Two Steps back

Chapter 6 - Steps of Upheaval

Chapter 7 - Stepping Stones to Certainty

Chapter 8 - A Step too close to the Edge

Chapter 9 - Stepping into New Beginnings

Chapter 10 - Stepping into New Challenges

Chapter 11 - Steps of Courage

About the Author

René Robertson was born in Toronto, Ontario, to Polish immigrants. A twin in a family of five children, this baby boomer grew up with many adventures. This is her first book, following a twenty-three-year career in dental hygiene and fifteen years in retail and her own business ventures. She has been married to her husband Geoff for thirty-eight years, supporting him in his work as a pastor of churches in Toronto and Hamilton. She is the mother of two grown children, Brianne and Lynn. She currently resides in a lakeside village, operating an Inn with Geoff.

Summary

This memoir of a childhood in constant flux and readjustment is the author’s candid perspective on life, with the uncertainty, struggles and joys of a large family, which included a brother, Felix, who was born mute and physically challenged due to an excess amount of cerebrospinal fluid—hydrocephalic. Entering adulthood, René sets out to Saint John, New Brunswick, to establish her own footing, where she encounters yet more challenges. She marries, moves back to Ontario to raise two children, and juggles a career while in the spotlight as a pastor’s wife. With so many people these days whose lives are constantly uprooted, René’s story offers encouragement and a true sense of the way home. This is a collection of heart-warming stories, hardships, depression, seeking and triumph.

Looking back over the events of my life, I discovered that they didn’t seem as random or irrelevant as I once thought, but key stepping stones through challenges that led to personal discovery, peace, hope and joy!

Foreword

We’ve heard popular expressions such as firefighters’ lives matter and often fill in the profession with various others from different cultural backgrounds, but the truth of it is that all lives matter. I even struggled with the notion of writing this book about the events of my life, thinking that it wasn’t important. I thought at first that if my life wasn’t significant publicly and I had no clout, money or status, then why bother. I asked my God, How am I qualified to do this in any way? He simply whispered into my heart, I qualify you. The steps that followed were ones of forward movement. I sensed His guidance and stepped out in obedience. I found a growing skill in creative writing in my journaling and the blogs I shared online. I would simply handle hurdles one step at a time, fine-tuning and asking questions, seeking help from those who had been around that block at time or two. With the slight doubts that lingered, I found myself slowing down and getting stuck, but I also sensed that I was gaining valuable insights and experiences, so maybe they weren’t delays after all.

I want others to know that obscurity or living a regular, run-of-the-mill life, is no reason to devalue yourself or think that your personal journal or book isn’t important. Be open to the unexpected twists and turns life can bring, the joy you can discover and the amazing impact it can make in your life and that of those around you.

Chapter 1

Before I Stepped onto the Scene

She could feel the excitement right down to her toes! Well, maybe a little fear, too, but it certainly was no ordinary day. Helene was finally going to meet Karl, the man she had only exchanged letters with while she lived in France and he in Poland. They had become pen pals three years earlier, each with a desire to discover a possible friendship through their mutual Polish backgrounds. Her family lived in a quiet little village called Bruay, in the North of France, so this was a great way for her to hone her writing and reading of the language that she only spoke at home in a casual manner. Over the three years of exchanging letters, her skill at Polish was deepening and so was their affection for one another.

Karl, on the other hand, was Polish right through to the bone and proud of his heritage. He had served in the Polish army at the age of eighteen during WWII and saw horrors no one should have to encounter at any age, but he survived. Karl Edward Woijcek Mureski was the third child in his family, and my pa. He had an older brother Bronek, and a sister, Marisia, who unfortunately died within the first year of her life. His father, Joseph had died shortly after he was born and his mother, Hanna had remarried Pawel Sobala a few years later. Hanna would give birth over the years to Louis, Wladzia, and Antoni. Karl and his brothers lived a simple life on a farm which, in later years would still feel like the idyllic lifestyle.

After his return from service, his focus was to get on with life and take hold of any hope for a bright future he could grasp. He continued his correspondence with Helene as he ventured to England to work and learn English. During the war, he acquired a running knowledge of Italian, German, Czechoslovakian and Russian, so he was sure English would not be too daunting, especially when he would be immersed in the country and working side by side with Englishmen. From there, he would move to Canada and take a job at the Royal York in Calgary, Alberta. The adventures were just beginning for this dark-haired man with chiseled good looks. He had the world by the tail!

Karl would meet Helene in Toronto, Ontario, as she arrived from her flight from Paris. This is where their saga began. He had asked her to marry him and she had not hesitated, sight unseen but for a photograph she had received in one of his letters. Within a few days, they were married in a civil ceremony and a week later in a Catholic church with a handful of Polish friends to witness their union. They lived with another couple while he worked, and Helene tried to acclimatize to her new life. She knew no English and depended on him to communicate when it came to getting groceries and other day-to-day transactions. They spoke Polish with one another, but Karl didn’t know any French at all, and he didn’t make it easier for her by attempting to learn her language. He maintained that stance, even in later years. A typical saying of his was, I understand the French: when they’re happy, they smile, when they’re sad, they cry. So, Polish was the go-to language that they would use while Helene navigated these uncertain waters following their jump across the pond. Although Helene had an adventurous spirit, she truly missed her father, Raoul and mother, Nella and siblings she had left behind in France. Raoul had immigrated to France from Poland and worked for 25yrs in the coal mines in the northern area. Nella supported him as the homemaker and they raised three children together—Helene, the oldest, then Joe and finally Janine.

Grandpa Raoul

Grandma Nella

Helene (1954)

Helene and Karl, Wedding 1955

The participants in this whirlwind relationship went into their day-to-day routines. Helene took on household jobs doing cooking and cleaning for short contracts with families in Toronto, while Karl took a job with United Steel. They settled into their own small house on Shaw Street and awaited the arrival of their first child. Anna was born September 4, 1956, just a day after Helene’s birthday. Within two months, Helene was expecting again and Nadia was born the following July. She contrasted her sister’s quiet nature by her enthusiasm for life at the get-go along with a healthy appetite. Nadia was the vocal one, the Robin Williams of our family, with a zany sense of humour and a need to be the centre of attention. Helene was barely adjusting to these two little bundles when she discovered she was pregnant with twins. We were born a month premature on June 27, 1958: René—that’s me—and Bernadette. Although we were a little underweight, we weighed in at a healthy six and five pounds respectively. This baby boomer family was all systems go!

René & Bernadette

There was an assembly line of bottles, cloth diapers and little outfits going through the wringer washer before being hung out to dry on a clothesline, but Helene and Karl made the best of it all. Their abode started to push the limits of comfort and after a disagreement with a neighbour, following Anna’s innocent picking of a flower from their garden, pa felt that we all needed a place to stretch out away from the city. The next move would land us in Stroud, Ontario, close to Lake Simcoe. My pa was now assisted by his father-in-law, Raoul, who arrived from France after the devastating loss of his wife, Nella, from thrombosis. They built a temporary above-ground cabin, dug a well and laid the foundation of what would be our larger family home. We would have the ground floor fully functional, with a complete roof before the second floor was added on a year later. Grandpa was the built-in babysitter and helper if ma and pa had to be out, but he also tilled soil for vegetable gardens and helped build a root cellar to store foods and preserves. My pa used a little Volkswagen Bug to commute to work in Toronto which switched a couple of times to Devilbiss Steel Co, and then DeHavilland Aircraft Company. My pa was resourceful—with steel he had purchased earlier, he welded together an adorable swimming pool with wooden trim for us to paddle about on hot summer days. We had lots of space to play outdoors and indoors. Now that the second floor was complete, a large room towards the back of the house became our indoor play area in inclement weather. We even got a beautiful black Chihuahua we named Velvet, which was the icing on the cake for us.

With all this activity, my ma felt at one point she needed a break to go into Toronto, all by herself to visit her sister, Janine so she could exhale for a weekend. Janine immigrated to Canada a few years after ma and got a retail job in Toronto. Pa had agreed to look after the troops, but in his desire to keep us in order, he told us that ma had left and it was our fault! I wasn’t familiar with my pa’s idiosyncrasies at this point in my life and took this hard, believing that she was not going to return. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case, but it wasn’t the first time we’d be subjected to our pa’s odd approach to parenting. Maybe, part of pa’s frustration was the absence of a boy to carry on the family name and give him a sense of pride. Ma was having health issues and her doctor suspected cysts on her ovaries, so an X-ray was ordered by her GP. The verdict was not cysts, but another pregnancy. Felix Edward Mureski was born November 4, 1962. Pa finally had his baby boy, but it would prove to be a bittersweet moment since months later, when Felix failed to develop normal speech patterns, the doctor would discover that excess cerebrospinal fluid had built up in utero and caused damage to his speech and motor co-ordination areas. This was devastating to my pa, because this was not something that could easily be reversed. Except for reducing the buildup of more fluid over the years, the damage was permanent. This beautiful baby boy seemed normal to us, but he had unique challenges that would test us all.

To me, even at the young age of five, my thought was to pray to God—in my innocence, somehow I knew I could call out to Him. My desire was for Felix to be able to talk, but as years advanced, I became aware that in his own way he was talking, and he could understand both Polish and English! All of us girls realized how precious our brother was to us, just the way he was, gentle, loving and happy-go-lucky; excited about every day and the fun events he knew they would include. This was not a cruel joke, but an opportunity for us to appreciate one of those who get left behind, not valued in society. Over the first few years all of us would assist our little Lexi, as we called him, to go from crawling to walking. He developed a small vocabulary which was even more amazing to us, despite how limited it was. He seemed overjoyed to have four sisters who loved him and wanted to extend a sense of family affection, not excluding him in any way. He was always full of laughter with a twinkle in his eyes. There were times of frustration for us though, like helping him to get dressed in the morning for school and not getting his complete cooperation. Other times, we would have to wait for him to come along when we’d want to play with neighbourhood children, but some of the activities were hard for him, like throwing, catching, kicking or hitting a ball. These things always tested our patience, but we would never tolerate anyone calling our brother names like retard and making him cry. We would stand up for him vocally and shield him from any physical harm because that was unacceptable and rude!

My parents’ perspective was different—this would be a lifelong challenge that would invariably involve one or both of them caring for him after the rest of us naturally left home. They would try to integrate him into learning at school with other special-needs children but would always have that sense of distrust in letting him leave home because of his inability to speak and relate events he would encounter. If anyone were to harm him, they would only be able to guess by sensing his reactions, apprehensions or fear as he’d be exposed to similar scenarios. As far as their faith journey was concerned, it had already been tested to the limits when my ma and pa had lived through the horrors of the war—hunger, seeing people suffering and dying in concentration camps and trying to make sense of why priests on either side of that battle had blessed both Nazi and Allied troops. Surely, there was a side on which conscience prevailed, and the Church would stand against the actions and philosophies of that German dictator! Their resolve was to leave the Catholic faith completely and depend on their own grit and determination to get through future battles. My brother’s health dilemma gave them a sense of hopeless resignation to this fate, and they had an inability to look at it in any way as a blessing. It was more of a grin and bear it attitude with moments of frustration and anger from pa. Those times were full of uncertainty for us girls