Hi Mom and Dad, It’s me Carole. You would remember me as Anita .... Anita Diane when our eyes first met or rather yours fell upon my closed ones as I understand from all accounts I was nearly dead or wasting away.
Remember Dad how you picked me up and immediately fell in love with me and Alice would not rest until I was better? Remember Dad, how you told me, “Mother would not leave your side. She was awake day and night manually moving your arms and legs, feeding you and watching over you, determined to bring you back.
And you did it, Didn’t you Mom. I remember those sunny days when I could bare but walk before renovations and I had the little bedroom with the tiny window and view of the chestnut tree and railway tracks. There was a sewing machine and triangle toy cupboard with an outside chalkboard that I drew on a lot and so did Kathy my cousin when she came to visit. If Kathy was with me that meant Tom was with Dick playing plastic monsters and race track cars in the basement or outside. Dick is now called Rick I am told but it was Richard or Dick in the late 50s early 60s. Jim was Jim but sometimes called James if it was serious or important. There was a closet with a wooden pole that I occasionally test my weight on but once too often as it crashed one day. I leapt back and my father said it must have been the weight of the clothes.
One day I wanted to see how a body could fit into the toy cupboard and I made it amongst plastic dump trucks, balls, dolls and stuff. I shut the door and felt the dead quiet and amazement of being invisible and not being able to see my hand in front of my face until I heard my mother’s voice in which I popped out and stood in the center of the room not wanting my precious space discovered.
Ah, precious space this house on 6 Lyons. Including constant renovations changing where bedrooms were and who slept where, gardening and raspberry picking, ironing, naps when I was 2 or 3. Walking out of my bedroom and peaking around the corner on the green couch across from the window sleeping on her side towards the window with her arms folded across her I mouth, “mother” without making a sound as I tip toe back and up onto my bed to feel the sun and await her wakening.
Dad, remember me when I was almost 4 on the front porch with a stick and handkerchief packing my personal belongings when you answered my knock and listened with love and amusement with my announcement I was moving.
Dad, remember when we both got stung by wasps while camping at Sioux Lookout?
Dad, remember you fixing my big toe after I threw up after mother had tried to put my foot in boiling water? You were so good at first aid Dad. Remember me bolting from the house when Mr. Salmon, the principle of the school arrived to take me to the regional speech competition where I would recite, “Imagination”? I lost by the way but so badly wanted to win.
Oh Mom and Dad, so many memories of beauty and sadness, tragedy and human frailty, love and heroism, secrets and acts of god. Now you are there together and I am here on this earth and Mother can tell you Dad, everything is good, and I am still your Daughter if you’ll have me. My departure was never about not wanting to be with you.
Loyal, devoted and in wish for your every health and happiness always,
and forever to be
your daughter,
Anita Diane +++++r,
Carole Ellen Groves
Carole Wilson
Camille Withaney
These above, are one in the same ....
your daughter
in love with you and forever with you
no matter what the earthly lessons and circumstance
in truth I honor you
