How did you feel when you did something for the first time?

This is an excerpt from my memoir – about taking the first flight of anyone in my immediate family and travelling alone to France in 1971.

Photo by Daniel Tong on Unsplash

‘Come to the edge.’ ‘We can’t. We’re afraid.’ ‘Come to the edge.’ ‘We can’t. We will fall!’ ‘Come to the edge.’ And they came. And he pushed them. And they flew.

Guillaume Apollinaire

My paternal grandmother, Corinne Tétreault, was French Canadian and ever since I was a child she had signed my birthday cards “Bon anniversaire. Je t’aime. Ta gran’mère.” That act started me on the road to becoming a Francophile.

Perhaps that’s why I took French all through high school then majored in it in university and graduated with my BA in French.

It was 1971. University graduation was in May, I turned 21 on June 14th and left for England and France on June 20th. What a whirlwind! I could barely breathe and felt a tightness in my chest at the same time as I hummed while I got ready for my adventure. I looked forward to being away from the handcuffs that Mom and Dad and society had placed on me.

No one in my immediate family had ever flown before – I’d be the first.

The dictionary definition of adventure states that it is “Engaging in an unusual and exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity such as a trip or experience or the excitement produced by such an activity.”  

I didn’t think this trip would be hazardous but Mom did! To me adventure is stepping out of my comfort zone and doing something I don’t normally do. This clearly met my criteria.

….

My three wound-up brothers came on the drive from London to Malton Airport, which later became Pearson, in Toronto on June 20.

On the two-hour drive, my youngest brothers, Philip who was 8 and John who was 6 squabbled constantly about who should have the window seat. It bothered my Dad and he often eyed them in the rear view mirror and snapped, “Stop that! Your arguing upsets me. I’m driving and have to focus on the highway!”

They’d stop for a while then start again and dad would do and say the same thing. It added to an already stressful day for all of us.

….

The airport building was vaster than anything we’d ever seen. We gaped. Swallowed up by its size, we looked up at the ceiling, Dad observed, “It’s so high that I can almost see clouds!”

The surroundings were abuzz with bustling people. Some hurried to board flights and others to get in lineups for check-in. There was an urgency in their movements. They spoke loudly to be heard above the din. Hawaiian shirts abounded. Sandals were the order of the day.

Looking around, I pointed to the line for my flight and en masse, we filed over and patiently awaited my turn at the desk chatting as we went. Like a racehorse entering his gate at a big race, I was pumped to board the plane.

Even though she smiled, Mom’s tense shoulders and wringing hands gave away her reluctance for me to travel alone so far.

Dad was proud of me and stood taller. He was grinning from ear to ear and I could hear him thinking, This is my daughter flying to France on her own.

John and Phil being kids were running around and playing with the stanchions. At one point Dad barked “Stop acting like little banshees and come and stand here!” 

Mark didn’t exhibit his feelings – after all he had turned 19 today! – his words had said that he was extremely pleased for me, but I knew by his pouty lip as he spoke that he was actually envious.

Finally, I had checked in and we said goodbye and hugged each other. Dad squeezed me tightly. Mom’s eyes were filled with tears as she pulled me to her, kissed me, and whispered in my ear, “I love you. Be careful.” Disengaging myself, I moaned, “Don’t do that mom. Everybody’s looking.”

It was time to go. I waved at them as the sliding doors closed behind me. I paused and took a deep breath before I pressed ahead on my adventure.

Continue Reading

Rainbows after rainstorms

Photo by my Mom from our porch on Rainbow Avenue

The following is an excerpt from my memoir … My brother Mark and I had been playing outside but as the sky became darker we knew a storm was coming so we went inside to safety. We observed it through the front screen door. Being the late 1950s, the door was made of wood and the screen part of it would be replaced in the winter with glass.

There was noone outside. They had all scurried indoors at the first signs of a storm as we had.

As we watched, it grew as dark as nightfall and felt sinister. 

The air had an earthy smell.

The birds’ singing stopped.

The lightning was close. It lit up the sky over the next street.

Immediately after, a boom of thunder exploded overhead. It was so near that it was loud enough to make the windows rattle. The universe sure was angry!

With the thunder the skies opened and it poured rain.

I could hear my mom saying, “A summer storm never lasts long. Soon the rain will stop, the sky will be blue and you’ll see a rainbow. Just stay at the door and watch.”

Gradually the thunder and lightning were quieter as the storm moved away to the east and the rain stopped.

Sure enough! Everything mom had said came true and we went outside to play again!

The grass had become greener as it drank up the rain. The downpour had driven out the worms which were now wriggling on the lawn.

The fresh, clean smell of the air was intoxicating.

Perhaps there was a rainbow after every storm because I grew up on Rainbow Avenue – or maybe not.

It could be that seeing rainbows after every summer storm is another reason I’m such a positive person.

After every storm no matter how long it is, a calm follows, a blue sky always emerges and if you’re lucky to see it – there is a rainbow.

Do YOU look for rainbows?

Continue Reading