Simple Threads...

My Mom was born to two loving parents. Their names were Edward and Annie. Their courtship was long because Edward was two years younger than Annie - quite scandalous for the time. So for four years they worked on a knitted afghan together. He wound the skeins of yarn while she knitted. It made them good friends and kept their hands appropriately occupied until they finally wed in August of 1905. 

Edward was tired of working in the coal mines so they came to Canada from England on the Empress of Ireland in the early 1900's. They had family in Indian Head, Saskatchewan but settled in Medicine Hat because of the warm chinook winds. They'd been blessed with two daughters before they left England, but the eldest, Irene, died. So only Agnes accompanied them on their voyage. Canada proved fertile ground and four strong boys followed before my Mom finally came along.

Grandma was forty when Mom was born and was growing weary of having kids underfoot by that time. So Grandpa built Mom a playhouse to keep her entertained and out from under her Mother's skirt. It was a little girl's dream. It had curtains on the windows, shingles on the roof, and two rocking chairs on either side of a little pot belly stove where Mom fried potatoes. Grandpa even erected a swing not far from the playhouse. This haven provided Mom with endless hours of occupation and enjoyment. Eventually, it became a great place to sneak a cigarette or two. Although Mom was usually a good girl she was known to push the boundaries a little. This didn't always sit well with Grandma. She was very much the proper English lady and had high expectations for her youngest daughter. Grandpa, on the other hand, never forgot what it was like to be a kid and often acted as the buffer between Mom and Grandma. This made a special bond between father and daughter.

You can tell from this photo that Mom adored her Dad. Aside from his occupation as a wheel-checker for the CPR, he was an inventor of sorts and revitalized discards by turning them into useful objects. Mom pushed apple-box-baby-doll-buggies with pride. I still have the sock-darning-tool he made out of scrap tin and an old doorknob. I doubt he ever imagined it would become an ornament or conversation piece one day. Grandpa was also an avid gardener and spent early springtime in the greenhouse he built preparing bedding plants. He grew all manner of vegetables that were enjoyed year round and dressed the old house up with beautiful flowers around the perimeter. He loved pansies, snapdragons and sweet peas the best. A ring of Marigolds around the garden kept the potato bugs at bay. After the daily maintenance was done he would sit back in his lawn chair, roll a cigarette and watch the garden grow.

Grandma and Grandpa enjoyed fifty years of marriage before she died in December 1955. My cousin Jim was born two days after her passing. He and I are the only two grandchildren who never made her acquaintance. Grandpa died when I was only six. But he had a hand in who I am today. I still remember creeping into his bedroom for a humbug candy he kept in the crinkly bag under his pillow. During Winter, he watched The Friendly Giant and Chez Helene with me as I teetered back and forth in one of the rocking chairs from Mom's old playhouse. Then in Spring, after teaching me the alphabet and how to count with every push of the swing, he sat back in his lawn chair, rolled a cigarette and watched me and the garden grow.

The courtship afghan Grandma and Grandpa made belongs to me now. I look at it and marvel at how their hands worked together to create something so beautiful. I like to think they wove their love into this precious artifact and conceived their children beneath its folds. These simple threads were just the beginning.

The rest is pixie dust...