The Power of Words

Cape Breton, Nova Scotia

Above is a map of  Nova Scotia, which of course includes the lovely Island of Cape Breton, the place of my birth.

If you look you will see a place called St. Peters.  My father’s family and our home(s) are located not too far from St. Peters; you would branch to the right off the main highway at St. Peters.  If you didn’t you would continue until you reached the city of Sydney – where my mother’s family lived.  My father’s family lived in a place called Lr. L’Ardoise; yes very French and my baptismal certificate reflected that French because they left the “p” out of my last name.

If you look closely at the map, I’ve drawn an arrow to show you where L’Ardoise is located, and beneath it I posted a lovely photo of me and two of my brothers.

My father’s family arrived in Lr. L’Ardoise from Boston, where my father had been born, shortly after his parents arrived from Ireland.  Yes, I am indeed a wee bit Irish.  My grandfather was a fisherman and my childhood memories of him are that he was indeed a “rough and rugged and weather beaten” fisherman.  He worked hard during the months when fishing was in season and the other times, well he and his friends sat around drinking port or stout telling “tall fishing stories,” and occasionally chasing his grandchildren around the property, if we happened to be visiting.

My mother’s family, who lived in Sydney (my recollection is a couple of hours drive from Lr. L’Ardoise), are of Scottish descent.  Now that’s a fine mix, don’t you think:  Irish and Scottish!  You can bet it made for some wild times growing up; two parents with very strong personalities, and yet, my memories are that “me Irish father” was the gentler of the two.  My mother’s family were considered “well to do” and they owned a “general store” that was operational during the summer season, not far from where my father’s family lived.  That’s how they met…on a hot summer afternoon when my mother was “minding the store” for her parents and my dad walked in to buy a coke or something to drink.  Guess their eyes met, sparks flew….and well here I am, one of 8 children.

My plans are to return to my home; to my roots where I can continue to write and do photography.  Both of my parents have passed on and I wish I could have returned home with them.  They never did return there.  My father was in the Canadian military and after retiring he and my mother continued to live in Ottawa (capital of Canada) to be closer to their children – even though we are spread out across Canada from Whitehorse to New Brunswick.  Funny, as I write this, and even sad.  None of us live in Nova Scotia, let alone Cape Breton.

Perhaps that is my final assignment in this life; to bring us all together back home to our roots.  I maintain that vision and it is what keeps me going in this mad “corporate jungle” that I live and work in, here in Toronto.  I see it in a vision as a sanctuary for family and loved ones; even the stranger who happens by – just like my childhood memories of going out shopping and leaving the tea pot on the old wooden stove, door unlocked, in case a friend dropped by while we were out.  They could sit and sip tea while they awaited our return.  It was a wonderful time for me; a most blessed childhood, and yet as a child, I never truly appreciated all that my parents had given us; all they had both sacrificed out of love for their 8 children.

I have two grown and married daughters.  I brought them both to mainland Nova Scotia when they were very young.  I’ve not returned with them since and as part of my vision, I see their children rolling in the fields of wild strawberries surrounding my cottage, on the cliffs of the sea.  Rosy cheeked and covered with the ocean mist they come rollicking into the kitchen drawn by the warmth and aroma of the freshly baked blueberries muffins – made from the wild berries that feed the fields.  I hold on to these dreams, these visions, as I said earlier, to keep me going “just one more day” in the concrete jungle I currently live in.  I travel there often, in my visions, even in the midst of a corporately mad work day!

So look for me on the bonnie Island of Cape Breton…some day very, very soon.  And, do drop in for a spot of tea…or a glass of Port!