Once upon a time there was a little boy. He didn't come from a stork or down the chimney. His mother told him she that she went to the hospital and went into a room full of babies. As she walked by one baby a little darker with big brown eyes looked up at her and said "Mama". She said she picked that one and brought him home Saturday, May 9, 1953. This is the story she told me and I believed her and stood up in grade one and told the class how I was born. It wasn't until I was twelve years old that my scout leader told me that my parents had sex. Nooo, not possible.
We were poor. My mother and my father were both born in Ukraine and came to Canada in the summer of 1943 on separate boats from Germany. They didn't know each other then and only met met through friends in Edmonton, Alberta. This is where a lot of immigrating Ukrainians came to because there were farms similar to Ukraine and they found families who sponsored them were there. But, not all my family came this way. About half on both my mothers side and my fathers side got off the boat and immigrated to New York City. Apparently my maternal grandfather and everyone wanted to go to New York, but there sponsors were in Edmonton.
One of the first memories I have is sitting in the backyerd on the cement driveway and feeling the warm sun on me. I remember the peace and quiet and warmth.
At first we lived on Maple street. My father went to school and my mother went to work as a secretary to support my father. Apparently my father enrolled in the University of Toronto but didn't study. He thought if he played ping pong with his professor every day the professor would pass give him a passing grade. but it didn't happen and my father dropped out of the first semester and then enrolled in drafting at Ryerson which was a trade college then before it became a univeristy.
I remember on Maple street they took me to a lady for daycare. We brought milk which was in a glass bottle and I eagerly wanted to carry it up the stairs. I wanted to show that I could do it. But I couldnt hang onto it and it fell and broke and all the milk spilled out. I remember the shock and disappointment. My parents consoled me but the slipping out of my hand when they trusted me and the wasted milk and broken bottle was a let down that I would remember for the rest of my life. I was only two. Also apparently before this lady they took me to a man for daycare and found when at home that I had bruises all over my body. They both had to go away for the day but as my mother tells me they had to take me back to him and my father threaten him that if he found anymore bruises on me he would I don't know do something to him or call the police. My mother said they didn't find anymore bruises on my and quickly found another lady to take me too. This was Mrs. Hawkins who I remember as a very nice lady. She taught me to speak english because at home we only spoke Ukrainian. With her I got a very good grammar base and later when my mother was going to school she would ask me how to say certain phrases.
On Maple street we lived upstairs on a corner house. One day my mother picked my up and we went to the grocery store and as we came home a German sheppard dog stood in front of us and growled. He scared us so much that my mother reached into the grocery bag and took out a steak and threw it to him. Then we passed and went to out house.
My father's mother bought him a brand new 1956 blue and green Buick. I remember the new car smell when it was parked in the garage at the back of the house on Maple street. I'll always remember that smell. We were poor and my mother budgeted every ten cents but my father had a brand new car.
Later, my grandfather bought a house at 194 Geoffrey Street in High Park for $36,000. My mother lent or gave him $10,000 to help out. My mother was on a very tight budget but she was able to save money. I saw her checkbook notes showing the money she gave to her father.
When we lived on Geoffrey Street and I turned four years old my mother said she was going to go back to the hospital and get another child. She said that I asked her to bring home a girl, a sister for me. I packed her back and put in pink clothes for a girl but I also added some blue clothes in case it was a boy.
My mother did bring home a little girl and I loved her more than anyone.
Its funny that as I write this I find myself speaking as a little child. These are the memories that I have and they may not be completely accurate.
When I look at my pictures as a young child, I look happy. But, it didn't last long. I remember my parents arguing and screaming and my mother unhappy. I remember my father going out with his friends with Derek the British guy with the British sports car. I remember my father bringing home a huge Great Dane and the dog made a very large poop on my mother's brand new blue carpet. The dog was gone the next day. I rember my dad with his female friends, Joyce and Sheila and them going away for weekends skiing. It was not a pleasant time for me because my mother was unhappy. MY father had a terrible anger and when he came after me my aunt stood in his way and he picked her up and threw her against the wall. I was always scared of my father.
I clearly remember the day he came home from work and my mother telling him that he doesn't live here anymore. She took all his clothes and things to his aunts and she told him to not come home anymore. I remeber the look on his face. I felt that look of sorry and sadness and shock. She kicked him out. He loved her but she could not live with him anymore. I was 6 years old then and this began another 7 years of horrible arguments and anger until they both remarried when I was 13.
I had some very good memories of those days as well. I spent time with my grandfather from my mother. Everyday we would go for a long walk around the large block and talk. On Saturday mornings my grandfather would make my one egg upstairs in their kitchen which was actually a porch. I am eternally grateful for the time I spent with my grandfather. I will wirte more about him in the Family section but my grandfather had a very good disposition. I remember that when no one would speak to my father, he did. He didn't hold a grudge. My grandfther was a lawyer and a member of Parliament in Poland and in Ukraine before he had to leave everything and take two suitcases to get on the boat to Canada. On the ships manufest he daid he was a farmer so that he would not draw attention to himself. Later when I was older I said to him that I admired that he lost everything and was fine and rebuilt his life. He told me that not just once but twice he lost everything. Wait now I realize that this was a premonition for me when I lost everything later in my life, strange.