Memories Of Locks Road

We cut the tree down the week of Christmas and put it up, but did not decorate it. Christmas Eve when we young ones went to bed the tree was bare. Christmas morning, when we all came downstairs, the tree was fully decorated and lit with lights and presents and toys surrounded it. No matter what happened during the year, Dad always made sure Christmas was special.

I loved my siblings. Whether it was cliff climbing and learning to shoot with my brother Dan or fishing with my brother Don (known by everyone as Doc), I loved my time with each of them individually or when they were all together. My oldest brother Jim, a bricklayer by trade, particularly endeared himself to me at bath time.

Barb and Jean, my oldest sisters, used to wash my hair at bath time. They would lean me back and use a small dipper to pour water over the top of my head. The problem was they would hold my head and when the water would stream over my face, I would panic and fight. The more I fought, the more determined they were to hold me. Jim stepped in one night to show them what they were doing wrong. He leaned me back and began to pour water over my head to rinse the soap out. When I resisted, he stopped pouring and spoke softly to me that it was okay. Calmed, I would lean back again and he would continue the process until my hair was rinsed. I never forgot his gentleness and throughout my life, Jim and I were always close.

I lived in Port Wallace until I was in the 3rd grade. By that time all my older siblings had left home, and my sister Olive had been sent to live with our sister Jean, and my sister Agnes had been sent to live with our sister Barb. So for a time, it was just Dad and I at home.

I had the run of the neighbourhood as Dad worked as a driver and often would be late coming home. I was in school all day but ran free in the afternoon and evening. An arrangement with my married cousin Marie for me to go to her place for suppers worked for awhile. Despite the lack of adult supervision, I was safe in the Locks Road area. Everyone knew me and knew my family and I could go to almost any house if there was a problem. The thing that concerned the adults was that I was running wild most of the time.

In 3rd grade, I used to go to my brother Jim’s place on weekends. One Friday, when I came home from school, Jim was waiting in the yard. He seemed to be just standing there, thinking. We gathered my things and drove to his place. Later in the weekend, when I talked about going home to Port Wallace, I was told I wouldn’t be going back. I was to stay with Jim from then on permanently.

There were family things that happened on Locks Road that were not good. Drama. My mom died, changing my future life; my dad drank after her death, causing some scary events; things like that. But my memories of living there are always focused on the good times, and the love and security I felt. The troubles didn’t bother me so much. I missed my siblings when they left and I missed my dad when I left. And I missed the neighbourhood. It was, despite everything, the best time of my life when I lived on Locks Rd. And I remember it fondly now that I am near 70 and my 4 brothers and 2 oldest sisters and Dad have died. The recollections help keep them alive in my mind and in my heart.