Keep Your Chin Up

My Humble Beginning and My Life as a Parent

This is the story of me. I was born in Haileybury, Ontario. On a stormy, miserable day, I decided to show myself to the world.

The day was May 30, 1952, and it was 2:00 a.m. My dad had just gone to harness the horses to take my mother to the hospital. I can’t even imagine having to ride in a buckboard while starting labour. At that time, my dad did not have a vehicle, and we lived half a mile off the main road. (This almost sounds like Little House on the Prairie as I recount the story!)

When my dad came back in from the barn, it was too late: I was on my way, and he had to deliver me. He said that he had never been so scared in all his life. The fact that he had to deliver his own baby was unnerving; luckily, however, he had farm experience. And obviously, he did a fine job … because I am here today!

Anyway, I flourished as the youngest of seven children in our country family. Aunt Kathryn named me because she didn’t have any children of her own and always wanted a daughter. She called me Linda Marie. I like the name—except for the fact that it was so common back then.

I am a left-handed person, which can be a little difficult at times in a right-handed world. My writing has always been composed at an awful angle or started at the edge of the page and ended up on the far side when writing a column. I started on the left side of addition columns instead of the right side, and the sums never added up. The advantage to being a left-handed person, though, is that it triggers the creative side of my brain, which has bestowed a great imagination upon me. I enjoy my creativity because I have always had a knack for seeing things from a fresh perspective. I see animation in almost all inanimate objects. It also brings out my joie de vivre. I’ve heard experts say, “Left-handed people are the only ones in their right minds.” Sometimes, when I feel awkward, I think of that quotation and smile.

As of the time of this writing, I am a mother and a grandmother. My children are all grown, and the blessings of being a grandparent are mine to enjoy. Parenting is the hardest job a person will ever have, but it is also the most rewarding. It is a job that lasts as long as you live and as long as you have a heart with which you can care and love.

Newborn babies are such mysterious miracles. It does not matter how many new ones I see—I marvel at each new life. Babies are usually quite easy to care for during the earliest stage, unless they have health problems. Such was the case with my granddaughter Amy. Shortly after she was born, she turned blue frequently. The doctors could not find the cause, but they thought formula might be getting into her lungs. That mystery was never solved, but after three months, the problem went away. I was not willing to watch Amy during that time. I was afraid she would do her little Smurf trick, as I called it, and turn blue. I took care of her plenty after that, though, without incident.

As children become toddlers, they are more fun to care for. I love getting little ones to say big words. Just watching their facial expressions is a hoot. This is the age when their personalities develop, and if you are a part of their lives, it is an extraordinary privilege. Stimulating the minds of children can be a delightful surprise when they exhibit extraordinary talent with a fresh outlook on the matter. I believe that children between the ages of one and ten are the most impressionable, and I have always sought to help them grow during those formative years. They like to help,and adults should not discourage their efforts.

Teenagers can be complex, hormonal beings, but I enjoy them as well. They need their space, but they also need a willing ear to listen to their problems. I was always there for my children and their friends as well. My daughters’ friends thought I was "so cool!” When my daughter, Calico was in grade 12, we agree to host the graduation party. Everyone thought we were crazy. We were new to the area, but there would not have been a graduation party that year if my my husband and I had not consented.

We only had two days to organize the event. My youngest daughter, Hollie, who was 14 at the time, talked to her friends about a band, and the event was advertised by word of mouth. The night of the party, at least one thousand kids showed up. We lost track after that, but there was not an empty patch of grass to be seen. I am very proud to say that there were no casualties, save one lawn chair that became a burnt offering on the bonfire. Again, I believe that because I respected the kids, they showed respect in return. I would host the party again in a minute.

In closing, I would like to say that people are people; it does not matter whether they are large or small, young or old. Indeed, everyone has feelings that need to be considered. Children need guidance and rules, but we must not forget to respect them. And in return, we will be loved and respected.