12 Wild Women and One Outhouse

Our new roots

We gathered from Ireland and across Canada: Halifax, Edmonton and Salt Spring Island, as well as from Burlington, Toronto, Peterborough, Rigaud and Ottawa. Together we have raised 23 children, adore our numerous grandchildren, and seven of us remain married to our first husbands (could this be statistically unusual?)!

One of our fringe group members, a well-known Ottawa landscape artist who suffered a degenerative disease, was unable to join us. We tried to do the next best thing. Since a city art gallery was showcasing her work, we left cottage country to view her canvases created with her love of nature and colour. Then–her preference–we spent an evening chatting with her by phone.

On our last day together–as we prepared to scatter back to our respective homes–we received a surprise visitor. A male classmate, who had heard our raucous singing across the lake, turned up to add to our glory stories.

High School Sketches

With a touch of nostalgia, I glance today at a few of the personality sketches in our 1960 high school graduating yearbook. Idealistic, innocent, they are a testimony to our youthful optimism.

“Go West, young girl, go West”; “Laughter is the spice of life”; “She’s just what she is, what better report: A girl, a friend, and a good sport”; “Everything succeeds with people of cheerful disposition”; “Laugh and the world laughs with you”; “Sweet personality, full of rascality…”

Fast Forward

Eleven not-so-wild women reunited on Canada’s west coast four years ago. Over the years it seems getting together has become more difficult. A challenge.

Along the way to 2023, we lost one of us. In 2018, our Classical Indian dancer died after losing her battle to myeloma. Her death brought home the realization that we are mortal.

Death has also claimed the lives of some of our loved ones.

And a few of us have battled–successfully–serious diseases, like cancer.

Now what?

Our wild group of 12 is now 11. This year we celebrate our 80th birthdays. We talk about another reunion but I think it unlikely. Some of us don’t like to travel anymore. Some can’t. We keep in touch via emails and social media.

Ignorant

In recent years, we have come to recognize our guilty sins.
We (unknowingly and unwittingly) were cavalier in our environmental treatment of this precious earth. Weren’t the fish going to live forever in the sea? Those pristine Ontario lakes where we camped. Wouldn’t they always remain the same?
And those inexcusable Residential Schools. Why were we never aware of them? Why were we never aware of the tragic plight of our Indigenous brethren?

The Last Call

Once wild women, we tread more softly now, each of us soberly aware we must face the realities of aging and our inevitable end.
In the innocence of our youth and the twilight of our years, we recall a less complicated life in Canada. Our country has changed. We have changed.

And I know we could never tolerate an outhouse now.