Interview with my Younger Self

Me Now (MN): You know how people say, “If I could go back in time with the wisdom and insight I have now, I’d tell my younger self a thing or two?” Well, here’s my chance. Hello, Pia.

Younger Me (YM): Oh, so you use that name exclusively now?

MN: Yeah, once I moved to Toronto it was just easier to make a fresh start with a name that’s easier to pronounce. It left any bad memories associated with that name behind. Except it took me forty years to make it official. (See post What's in a Name? under Memoirs)

YM: We move to Toronto?

MN: Oh, yeah, I guess I’ve got to be more careful with what I let slip.

YM: I don’t really get why I’m here. Do I really want to know what’s ahead of me? What if I can’t handle it?

MN: Since I know you better than anyone, I know you need to be told that life won’t always be as good as it is now, and you need to be teachable. As for the future, it’s true it’s best not to know. But you WILL be able to handle what comes, by the grace of God.

YM: That’s good to know that I’ll still have my faith in the future. I sometimes worry I’ll lose my salvation.

MN: I can encourage you in that. You’ll soon learn about the doctrines of grace and you’ll see that you can’t lose your salvation because God chose you before the foundation of the world. It will give you assurance. This assurance in turn puts all other worries in their place.

YM: But what about…?

MN: Trust me. You’ll learn it over a period of a few years and you’ll never doubt it again. Remember, I know your future.

YM: Okay, I’ll take your word for it. But what CAN you tell me about my future? Do I get married, have kids, and live happily ever after?

MN: Yes, yes, and for the most part.

YM: What does that mean?

MN: Life happens. But I can promise you this; God is always faithful.

YM: I guess that’s all I need to know. Although I am curious. What’s my future husband like? Do I already know him?

MN: I guess I can tell you a little now. No, you haven’t met him yet. He’s still out there. Be patient.

YM: That’s surprising to me. I always assumed I’d marry one of the Finnish guys I know now. Is my future husband Finnish?

MN: No, but you’ll be pleasantly surprised. Don’t worry, you choose well.

YM: Please tell me he’s a believer at least?

MN: Yes, he is. Now let’s get back to the reason I wanted to talk to you.

YM: Okay. I guess you’ve told me enough. Most people don’t get that much information. Lay it on me, what’s the serious issue?

MN: It’s about your health.

YM: I don’t like the sound of that. Do I get gravely ill?

MN: No, but in a sense, it’s worse. You will have several chronic illnesses.

YM: Several? Isn’t one enough?

MN: You’d think so. But remember what I said earlier? Life happens, but God is always faithful.

YM: So you’re implying this will be a test of my faith?

MN: Yes, because it’s always easier to deal with short term crises than the discouragement that comes with ongoing suffering.

YM: Suffering? That makes it hard to guess which illnesses you could be talking about. Any hints?

MN: No, because part of the process is dealing with the anxiety of not knowing.

YM: So that’s all you’re giving me? No diagnoses or dates to spare me some anxiety?

MN: No, sorry. But you’ll have many happy years before it hits. Just appreciate them while you have them, try to take care of your health, and remember what I said earlier, Life happens, but God is always faithful. And one quote that will help you then is by Stuart Briscoe, “God allows things to happen to me, so that He can do things in me, so that He can do things through me.”

YM: That’s encouraging and scary at the same time. But if you have those things now, how is it you don’t look sick or disabled?

MN: Not every illness and disability is visible.

YM: Wouldn’t it be easier if it were?

MN: You’re more right than you know. But that’s another part of your journey that you’ll have to navigate; the frustration of suffering while having to feel you have to prove you are suffering.

YM: I don’t really want to deal with that yet. Let me try to boil down what you’ve told me. You said I’d suffer with some invisible chronic illnesses after many happy years with a Christian husband and children. Sounds like a mix of happy and sad.

MN: Yes, it is. Take a deep breath and go into the future, knowing God is already there, and He is faithful to the end.

YM: I guess I don’t have a choice, but I do feel encouraged by much of what you told me, especially about God’s faithfulness in the midst of trials.

MN: Count on it. It’s not your hold on Him that’s the basis of your assurance, it’s His hold on you; much like a child crossing the street with her father. He’ll hold you.

YM: Thanks. It’s also interesting to see what I look like 30 years in the future.

MN: Disappointed?

YM: You, I mean, I still look pretty young considering what are we, 50?

MN: 54.

YM: Yeah, not bad. But the weight gain is a surprise. No offence.

MN: None taken. Is it an excuse to say it’s part of the illness and treatment?

YM: I guess it is what it is. Does that mean that for most of my life I’ll have normal weight?

MN: Yes, fear not. I never realized how shallow I was.

YM: It seems this interview has enlightened both of us.

MN: See you in the future. And remember, rest in the faithfulness of God.

(See my other interviews in the Interviews folder).

30 Things you may not know about my illness: ME/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

1.       The illness I live with is Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I have others but I’ll focus on this one.

2.       I was diagnosed with it at age 51.

3.       The other name for it is Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME), which means an inflammation of the brain and spinal cord, which is what it feels like. A newer name is SEID. Severe Exercise Intolerance Disease, which makes it more serious by calling it a disease, but the name doesn’t take into account the other symptoms.

4.       Since it is a syndrome, it has a cluster of symptoms. It’s much more than just fatigue.

5.       It’s an invisible illness, not an imaginary one.

6.       It came on quite suddenly in December.

7.       It is considered both an auto-immune and neurological disorder.

8.       It’s linked with my other problems: Fibromyalgia syndrome, Multiple Chemical Sensitivities (MCS) and Electro-magnetic Hypersensitivity (EMH).

9.       Because of the other illnesses the symptoms of pain, cognitive impairment (Fibro fog) and sleep issues are cumulative.

10.   The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is to have to leave my job (Oncology nursing), which I love. I’m currently on long term disability.

11.   The hardest part of my day is deciding what my one task will be for the day. I can usually only do one thing; an appointment or a chore. The rest of the time spent on the couch.

12.   I feel useless. I used to be a productive member of society and church. I used to be able to do so much, like host dinner parties, etc.

13.   Before my LTD was approved, I felt worried about our finances and feared losing our house. I know it added to my husband’s stress as well.

14.   I can’t look after my grandson like I would have if I was well. My balance is so bad, I’m nervous to carry him, and won’t risk going up or down stairs with him.

15.   One gadget I’ve come to appreciate is my CES machine (Cranio-electro –stimulator). I can set it to sleep with energy, sleep or pain. My husband calls it space invaders.

16.   Unless you also have to rest for 20 minutes after climbing the stairs or taking a shower, your definition of fatigue is irrelevant.

17.   Three years ago I was taking one pill and two supplements, now I take 90 pills and supplements. Every. Day.

18.   If I had to choose between an invisible illness or a visible illness, I’d still choose invisible; only because I don’t like to call attention to myself.

19.   I wear comfy clothes now. My motto used to be fashion before comfort, now it’s comfort before fashion.

20.   Regarding alternative treatments, I’ve found they have been immensely helpful, specifically chiropractor, massage therapist, and Naturopath in relieving many of my symptoms. I have a good team around me.

21.   One of the worst symptoms is a feeling that my spine and brain are being whisked. When they vibrate, I can’t do anything until it passes.

22.   I’ve seen an Athletic Therapist who specializes in ME patients. She started me on an exercise program. My heart rate can’t go over 105 I can only do anaerobic exercise and strength training. It’s all about pacing so I don’t crash.

23.   An ME crash occurs if I’ve been “overdoing it”. For example, I generally can’t clean my house. But one day I had a big more energy and dared to vacuum one level, clean my bathroom and do a load of laundry. The next day I couldn’t do a thing, I spent it on the couch.

24.   I’m pleased to say that compared to a year ago, I have some significant improvements to my sleep, pain level and cognitive improvement. The exhaustion is not much better, and my MCS, EMH are unchanged.

25.   It’s been three years since my health deteriorated and one year since the ME hit and I can barely remember what I used to be like.

26.   I sometimes wish I had a disabled parking sticker because whenever I go to the train for a downtown appointment, I have to park at the far end of the parking lot, and it’s the equivalent of a two block walk to go to the train. It wears me out and adds to my ordeal.

27.   When I went to get my car licensed, I had to stand in line for 1 ½ hours! I may bring a cane with me into a similar situation in the future, so people won’t look at me funny if I grab a chair to rest.

28.   One of my doctors did a balance test before my treatment. I swayed with my eyes closed and couldn’t stand on my toes with my eyes closed for more than 2-3 seconds. It’ll be interesting to see a change after my treatments.  It’s caused by a swelling on the brain.

29.   Even if they can clear out my liver and improve my MCS and EMH, which would be great, they won’t be able to fix my ME or Fibro because they’re chronic.

30.   In spite of this, I’m glad it didn’t hit me until my children were grown. I’m also thankful to have such a supportive and understanding husband.

The Awkward Years

Junior Highschool. That’s grades 6-8, isn’t it? Our public school in Sault Ste. Marie consisted of Kindergarten thru grade 8, then highschool. But if I was to focus on those three years, I’d say they were probably the three worst years of my school career.

When I was moving up to grade four, they decided to take six of the most advanced from our grade, of which I was one, and add them to a split grade four/five class. Suddenly, the group I had been with since age five, I’d only see at recesses. I found it quite stressful to be in a new environment.

I’m not sure what their thinking was in splitting us up. If it was to give us an advantage somehow, I don’t think it worked. In fact, I’m sure it backfired. My marks plummeted for the first time in my educational career, beginning in grade six, and my shyness became paralyzing, even once I was back with my former classmates in grade eight.

Up until grade five, I was a good student, actually a very good student, straight A’s right through. The only comments about me personally, were that I was very shy. An understatement if there ever was one. In grade five I was even the teacher’s pet. My Scottish teacher, Mr. Morris let me do whatever hairbrained schemes I’d come up with, like organizing a beauty pageant in class. Yeah, dumb ideas like that.

In grade six, my teacher, Mr. Willinsky, was a hippie, and he was my teacher for two years, since I’d be in this split class until I finally rejoined my class again for grade eight when the upper half of my class went on to highschool. He also followed the thinking of the time, and put all our desks in a circle rather than in rows, and it ratcheted my stress level through the roof to have everyone looking at me every time I answered a question.e ev

 If there was one good thing about that time, it’s that I became an avid reader, getting lost in the world of books such as Harriet the Spy, Island of the Blue Dolphins and Nancy Drew mysteries. I also turned inward and began writing. I was a dreamer, and to many I would seem to be clueless, but I was processing all that happened around me, and imagining better realities. My writing consisted of journals and stories, the most significant was one about a fictional best friend of mine who dies of cancer. I don’t think I even have it anymore, but my hippie teacher read it an encouraged me in my writing. I guess he wasn’t so bad after all, even though he was a hippie.

My shyness was at a crisis point, paralyzing my actions. At the same time, I became more solid in my faith and that made me even more pensive, looking at the world through a new lens. I had my first crush in grade five, and after that, it was one ‘love affair’ after another, all in my mind, of course. I was too scared to actually talk to any boys.

I didn’t struggle with acne or anything like that, but I had body image issues, like most girls. I kept my hair short and was slow to develop, so I would sometimes be referred to as a boy. It didn’t help that my real first name was unpronounceable and would always need to be repeated. See my blogpost, What's in a Name? http://piafinn.blogspot.ca/2008/09/whats-in-name.html  It was so bad that in grade six one boy gave me and my friend nicknames. She was chubby and I was flat-chested, so he called us Fatso and Flatso. Horrible, wasn’t he?

Overall, not a great time in my life. My mother’s alcoholism became worse and since she was my only parent, I tended to want to be anywhere but home. I especially loved being in Christian homes. I was determined that was the type of family I wanted to have and would hold out until God brought a Christian man into my life. At the same time, my mother became more hostile to my new faith and at first, forbade me from seeing my Christian friends. My sister’s intercession, convincing her it was better I was there than in trouble somewhere, softened her stance, and my faith grew.

Some people I knew, two teens, had committed suicide by overdose. In spite of all my issues, that was never something that crossed my mind, thank God.

A book that was helpful to me at that time was Hinds’ Feet on High Places, by Hanna Hurnard. The main character in that allegory was Much-Afraid, and I could relate to her so well. It encouraged me that I could grow and overcome on this journey with The Shepherd, and one day have a new name.

Books became my friends, and I began reading fiction. I especially liked Biblical, historical fiction and recall a book called Twice Freed, about Onesimus. I also learned so much just from my Bible reading, although it would have helped to have someone to explain things to me or to even have a commentary or study Bible. I wasn’t attending church so I had no one to explain the big picture to me. That’s probably why I am particularly fascinated with writing the Scarlet Thread; Discovering Christ in all of Scripture. It is so amazing to see Christ in the O.T. narratives and symbols. It connects the testaments and helps me to see the Bible as one book instead of two, or sixty-six.

Our circumstances and environments shape who we are, and those critical years shaped my faith, my love for reading and writing, and even my introverted personality. I guess I can’t complain too much, since I survived, but I wouldn’t wish those years back. Overall, that particular small town holds more painful memories than happy ones, and it was not surprising that when I moved to Toronto at age twenty, I changed my name. I had mostly outgrown my shyness and I was stronger in my faith. It was a fresh start for me. Like Much-Afraid, I finally had a new name.

What Did You Want to be When You Grew Up?

I didn’t have many role models of women who worked. Back in the sixties, most of the people we knew, in the Finnish community, were new immigrants who were still learning English. Many were housekeepers. They called themselves, ‘Leaning Ladies’. My own mother was first a waitress, then a bartender, then a cook. The only jobs I knew of for women were the traditional ones; secretary, teacher or nurse. Although I didn’t personally know any nurses. I didn’t even really know what they did until I started watching the show, Emergency.

At different times, I wanted to be a teacher, or a writer, or a flight attendant. We called them Stewardesses back then. I wouldn’t actually want to be one, since I hate flying. I also thought I wanted to be an architect, but that was more because I was a dreamer and was imagining my dream house, even as a little girl.

During highschool, I was still undecided, so I looked through the list of programs offered at different universities. I had no clue. I thought maybe Geneticist, since I seemed to understand the class on Mendellian genetics. When I found out I needed the other Sciences and Math, I gave up on that. I seemed to be all over the map with my marks in highschool, barely passing the courses I disliked, like Math or Geography, and excelling in the ones that interested me, like English, Shorthand, or Typing.

Suddenly, highschool was ending and I still didn’t know what I wanted to study. I didn’t have any five year plan. I couldn’t imagine that I would have to learn a trade and look after myself. I was a typical narcissistic, short-sighted teenager.

At the last minute, I looked over the courses offered at our local community college. Nursing looked to be the most interesting to me. I applied for only that, and only in that one location. They received over 300 applications and randomly chose 80. I was one. I guess that was where I was supposed to be, because once I got in, I loved it, and excelled in my studies, since every class interested me.

I’ve been nursing over 25 years now, and I love my job. I specialized in Oncology Nursing. See my post on Oncology Nurse, On Purpose for an explanation.

I’ve been writing off and on for about five years more seriously. I write because I love it, and I feel I have something to say. Where this will lead, I leave to God. I don’t know if I feel the need to be published to be validated, although it would be nice.

All that to say, I think our dreams change over time, yet sometimes we don’t know what they are until we learn what’s out there. I appreciate that my daughters learned how to study earlier in life than I did, so that they had more opportunities. Also, women aren’t stuck in just the traditional jobs. My eldest is a Social Worker and my youngest is studying to be an International Lawyer. I’m very proud of them.

Interview with Darkness

By Pia Thompson

“Hello Darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to speak with you again.”
Simon and Garfunkel

Pia: Today I’ve invited darkness to my blog. You don’t mind if I keep the lights on, do you Darkness?
Darkness: Well, yes, but I’ll put my sunglasses on. The glare, you know.
Pia: It also hides your eyes. You like to keep things hidden, don’t you?
Darkness: I have that effect. But then, most people like me for that reason. I can keep their secrets. I enable them to sin without fear of discovery.
Pia: Yes, I can see how they would think that, if they didn’t know the God who sees all. Light and darkness are the same to Him. We can’t hide.
Darkness: Thankfully, I’ve convinced most people otherwise.
Pia: I suppose you wouldn’t get the dread or respect you do if people saw how easily you could be driven away.
Darkness: Yes, dread and respect. That’s a good way to put it. Most people don’t love me. They appreciate what I give them. A cover, a cloak. Others dread me not for my own sake, but for the sake of the things they imagine I’m concealing; Bogey men or violence.
Pia: Once, when I was young, a boy locked me and his sister in my closet. I remember the feelings I had in the darkness. It was the middle of the day, but it was so dark in there, there weren’t even any shadows and my eyes wouldn’t adjust to it. The darkness seemed to close in on me. I felt the clothes over my head and the toys on the floor. I was crying and begging him to let us out. His sister tried to command him, but he didn’t do it for a long time. I never thought I was claustrophobic, but I started to find it hard to breathe. When he finally opened the door, I felt such relief. I never looked at that closet in the same way. And I’ve always feared getting trapped, since then. Whenever I’d hear about someone being trapped in a walk-in freezer, or a mine, or children hiding in an old appliance and suffocating, I could remember that place and those feelings.
Darkness: It’s funny how that happens. I show up and all kinds of imaginary things join me. I’m not so malignant, you know. Just an absence of light.
Pia: You’re not so innocent, Darkness. You said yourself that you like to provide people with a covering for their evil deeds. Do you not feel any sense of responsibility for your part in it?
Darkness: If you’re asking if I enjoy it any sense, then yes, I do. I feel I bring out a person’s true self. I help lower their inhibitions. People do things in darkness they’d never do in the light.
Pia: Yes, I know that from personal experience, sadly.
Darkness: Care to elaborate?
Pia: Not really. Paul says, “For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light. And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather, expose them. For it is shameful even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret. But all things that are exposed are made manifest by the light, for whatever makes manifest is light.” Ephesians 5:8, 11-13
Darkness: Ahh, my arch-enemy, Light. You had to bring him into this, didn’t you?
Pia: Well, you know that just as you symbolize evil, so light is a symbol for the highest good, God Himself; Jesus Christ. He said He was the Light of the world, and Peter says we’ve been “called out of darkness into His marvellous light.” It’s when I think about Jesus, and His power to create Light by speaking into darkness, it chases away shadows and fears.
Darkness: Funny how even shadows can frighten. They are only hints of the deeper darkness to follow, yet people see in them all manner of things.
Pia: You’re right. My sister and I were often alone most evenings because our Mom worked in a restaurant. Sometimes we’d watch t.v. shows we shouldn’t have, like Night Gallery or Dracula. I’d have a hard time turning out the light. I’d check in my closets and under my bed, and then turn out the light and scan the corners of my attic bedroom with my flashlight. The problem was, as soon as I’d finish one side of the room, I’d have to start over because I feared “something” had moved into the darker corner. Checking under the bed was never reassuring. I thought as soon as I fell asleep, a trap door would open up under my bed, releasing the Bogey Man. I never let my hands or feet dangle over the bed. That was just inviting danger.
Darkness: (laughing) Oh, I love it! I don’t even have to do anything and I set people trembling.
Pia: You’re not always bad, though. Sometimes the darkness can give me a feeling of solitude. In the silence, it’s easier to pray, and easier to talk about difficult issues when no one can see our faces. It’s easier to confess and seek forgivenss.
Darkness: Finally, some positive feedback. You’d think I was personally responsible for every evil in the world.
Pia: No, but you symbolize it, and you are the ultimate end for those who don’t know Christ. Hell is a place described in terms of “outer darkness” and the “blackness of darkness forever”. Darkness also implies being alone and terrified. Hell is a fearful place, but “He has delivered us from the power of darkness, and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love, in whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins. “ Colossians 1:13
Darkness: I am what I am. Take it or leave it.
Pia: Well, you’re here to stay for now. In Heaven, there will be no Night. It’s the opposite of hell. There will be nothing to fear.
Darkness: I guess I’ll still be working then, in that other place.
Pia: Job security will be little comfort then. Let’s talk about threats and memories, and how they come back in the darkness.
Darkness: Some of my favourite topics. What about them?
Pia: I’ve noticed that you can use one fearful event, even one that didn’t take place in darkness, like a physical assault or a threat of violence, and it comes back magnified in the dark.
Darkness: (clapping his hands) Yes! Yes! I love that! I didn’t even instigate the original event. I just provide the setting, create the mood, add a few unexplained sounds around the house, suggest to your mind that maybe you didn’t lock the door, and suddenly those threatening phone calls you’ve been receiving make you jump when the phone rings. Or you have flashbacks about a real event. So much mileage just by one turn of the earth.
Pia: Well, thank you for visiting my blog tonight. Perhaps you should go before the sun comes to chase you and your shadows away.
Darkness: (rising to leave and removing his glasses to reveal coal black eyes) Yes, I’ll go, but remember it’s always night time somewhere in the world.

Interview with Fear

By Pia Thompson

Pia: Today, I’m speaking with Fear. He is well known to most of us. Fear has been a constant companion to many, a casual acquaintance to others. Welcome to my blog today, Fear.
Fear: Thank you. It’s my pleasure to be here. Always good to see you, again, Pia.
Pia: Now, Fear, you and I are well, I wouldn’t say old friends, but we do have a history at the very least.
Fear: Yes, we do have a history. I’d like to think we still have a connection. Wouldn’t you?
Pia: Yes, well, for the sake of those who don’t know you as well, I’ll introduce you. Fear first made an appearance in my life after the death of my Father. I was three, my sister was five. Fear is a near relative of Insecurity. Some say the family resemblance often makes it difficult to tell them apart.
Fear: If I may interject, I think I’m stronger than my cousin. Insecurity is far too fretful.
Pia: Yes, I agree. But you both bullied me in my early years.
Fear: Such a strong word, bullying. We don’t do any more than you allow us to do. Please don’t play victim with me.
Pia: Anyway, my mother turned to alcohol to cope. I felt very alone. She was often depressed and would sit in the dark at home. I remember hearing on the news about a single mom who drove into the water, killing herself and her two daughters. I remember asking, “You wouldn’t do that, would you, Mom?” Somehow her reassurances didn’t help.
And because my father died young in a car accident, I feared the same could happen to my mother and we’d be left alone.
Fear: If I may, how am I to blame for any of this? Did I drive the car that killed your father?
Pia: No, but you and your cousin whispered to me on those many nights when I slept with the light on.
Fear: Don’t bring my cousin, Darkness into this. Let’s just stick to you and me.
Pia: Very well. I turned inward. I may have been more naturally shy being the younger sibling. But in my school years, I became painfully shy, beyond description. I was the queen of malingering, pretending to be sick to avoid the stress of school. Because of my home life, I spent many nights sleeping over with friends. I was drawn to “whole” families who loved each other, talked and joked. I knew that’s what I wanted if I ever had a family.
Fear: Excuse me while I dab at my tears. So touching.
Pia: No one would ever accuse you of being sensitive, Fear. But I do have to thank you.
Fear: Thank? Me? Whatever for?
Pia: You are a motivator of sorts. You helped me want to escape, find a better life; happiness.
Fear: Did I succeed?
Pia: Yes, but I wouldn’t go so far in giving you all the credit. When I first heard the gospel, it was fear of judgment that motivated me to come to Christ, although it was love that kept me. I knew when I heard the bad news, that it was true. I was a sinner and I deserved to suffer the wrath of God. When I heard the Good News, that God had provided a way of escape through Jesus Christ, I ran into the arms of a Father who would never leave me alone. This was the beginning of my life as a Christian. But you didn’t leave me, Fear.
Fear: Well, not to boast, but I am faithful.
Pia: I knew my fears were inconsistent with a life of faith, that they showed a lack of trust in God, but a lifetime with you wasn’t easy to shake.
Fear: Oh, I recall being kicked to the curb more than once.
Pia: Yes, it was those Bible verses. They helped me see you for what you really were.

“ Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by your name;
You are Mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned,
Nor shall the flame scorch you.”
Isaiah 43:1,2

Then said I:
“ Ah, Lord GOD!
Behold, I cannot speak, for I am a youth.”
But the LORD said to me:
“ Do not say, ‘I am a youth,’
For you shall go to all to whom I send you,
And whatever I command you, you shall speak.
Do not be afraid of their faces,
For I am with you to deliver you,” says the LORD.
“ Behold, I have put My words in your mouth.“
Jeremiah 1:6-8

“ For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”
2 Timothy 1:7

Pia: Why are you covering your ears, Fear?
Fear: I thought this was an interview, not Pick-on-Fear Day.
Pia: So what have you been doing with yourself, lately? Besides hiding in closets and under beds?
Fear: Ouch. Although there is merit in those things you mentioned. Some people never shake well established childhood fears. Get ‘em early, I always say. But to answer your question, I’ve left you alone for quite a while now, haven’t I?
Pia: Yes. Some of my fears and insecurites fell away as I became an adult, others left as I matured as a Christian. Once I learned how easily I could make you flee, by prayer and the Scriptures, I became more confident.
Fear: See, you found yourself a Christian man, built yourself that dream Christian family you always wanted, with love and laughter and joy. Oh, excuse me a moment while I bring up my lunch.
Pia: You’re right and wrong. My mother stopped drinking when I was seventeen. The lights turned on, quite literally. I began to know her and we now have a great relationship. God blessed me with a husband and a family. He showed mercy to me by also saving my children. Yes, I have a happy family life, like I had always dreamed. But it’s not all sweetness and light. We live in a fallen world. My husband developed bone cancer in his leg thirteen years ago.
Fear: He’s alive, isn’t he? What does that have to do with me?
Pia: Yes, he’s alive, thank God. God spared him, and all of us. During that time though, I had no assurances he would survive. I’m an oncology nurse. I know that not everyone has a happy ending. I was afraid he would die. Our girls were 6 and 8 at the time. I feared they would grow up without a Dad, like I did.
Fear: But they didn’t. I’ve kept away since then,let you go on with your storybook life, in a beautiful house in the suburbs, with your mother living with you, and a dog, no less!
Pia: Yes, life is good. I thank God for His blessings. I know I don’t deserve them. Now, though, I see your subtlety. You’re not attacking in the old way. Now you dress up in opportunities.
Fear: Please explain how I manage to scare you by opportunities.
Pia: Fear of failure is a great motivator. It makes me work hard. But fear of success is different. I know that in order to succeed, I need to take risks, step out of my comfortable world, and risk rejection. Sometimes it’s safer to stay in mediocrity; not promoting myself, not finishing writing my books, because then I’d have to push the baby from the nest. What if it doesn’t fly? Suddenly I’m an insecure child again, afraid of the world out there. All alone. That’s why I just blog for myself and keep my partially finished manuscripts on a shelf. It makes me feel I’m working towards something without ever getting there.
Fear: So, let me get this straight. I am responsible for the bad things in your life, and the good things? I keep you in your mediocre existence so you won’t take chances because of your fear of failure AND your fear of success? I didn’t know I was that good. I need to update my resume. I impress myself!
Pia: No, Fear. You’re still loathsome, no matter what form you take. But I’m wise to you. I see how you operate and I don’t have to allow you to freeze me in time. I learned long ago that you are not invincible.
Fear: Well, so happy for your insights. Glad we had this little chat, but I must be going, scaring little children and all that, you know.
Pia: I can’t say I’m sad to see you go, but I am glad we had this talk. You’re not so intimidating in person. I thought you’d be taller. And I totally wasn’t expecting the British accent.
Fear: (rising to leave) Goodbye, Pia. I’m sure I’ll see you again sometime. Think of me when you can’t finish writing something. I may be around the corner, holding hands with Success.

Games People Play

Growing up, we didn't have many toys. That's one of my poor girl stories I always tell my kids. They say "Yes, Mom we know, you only had a soap dish with a hole in it."

I had no Barbies, but my sister had two and wouldn't share. I had no cars, but my sister had two Matchbox cars and wouldn't share. Do I sound bitter?

We would get an occasional board game for Christmas. We had Monopoly, but I never liked it because it was endless and I always lost to my sister. We had Sorry, Trouble, and Don't Spill the Beans, which had a pot and you loaded one kidney bean at a time until it fell one way or the other. It was a rather pointless game and eventually the beans were scattered thoughout our perpetually messy, shared attic bedroom. We also had Yahtzee and Probe, which was some kind of language game.

I had a few dolls. One early one was the Drowsy Doll, she had pink polka dot pajamas and sleepy eyelids. If you pulled her string, she said eight different things, like. "I'm tired," or "Mommy, cover me up." My mom gave it away thinking I was too old to play with dolls. I was heartbroken.

I was sent a Finnish doll from my grandmother in Finland. She was dressed in traditional clothing and had brown curly hair and looked like my mom. But I wasn't allowed to play with her as she was just a decoration.

Then I had another pretty doll with blonde curly hair. She was a favourite. One day I came home to find it, too was given away. This time to a daughter of a co-worker who was visiting. I was heartbroken again, and angry, too. As if I had so many toys I could stand to part with them!

One of my favourite Christmas presents was around the age of eleven, when I got a chalkboard on a stand. At this age we played school a lot and wanted to be a teacher when I grew up. That Christmas Eve night, I stayed up late playing with it. At the time, I thought it must have been expensive, but it was more that we were poor.

In the bathtub, I had no toys. I used the soap dish as my boat. Unfortunately, it had a hole in it, so it became a submarine. Maybe that's when my love for submarines began! I'm trying to gain insight here, people. Stay with me.

We didn't have any craft games, either, except my sister had a Spirograph, but I wasn't allowed to use it much. We had colouring books on rare occasions. My sister was given a paint by numbers set as a gift, but I never had one. Man, the more I think about it, the more deprived I feel. I feel cheated all over again.

Since we didn't have much to play with inside, there was this place called Outside, and there was a lot to do out there. We had a large group of kids in the neighbourhood and most of us could play outside until the street lights came on. That was the signal, whether my mom was home or not. Usually she worked in a restaurant in the evenings.

We played kick-the-can on rare late nights, or hide-n-seek with a two block limit. It was a drag being "IT". That meant we would roam through laneways behind houses or cut through people's yards. I guess we weren't very sensitive to the idea of private property.

We also played Red Rover, Green green red, Mother May I?, Frozen Tag (Statue), Simon Says, British Bull Dog, and War. I loved War. Maybe I was a closet megalomaniac and loved the power.

We didn't have much in the way of sporting equipment. My sister had marbles. If I ever had them, I lost them to her in a game. We had a rubber ball, which occupied us much at home and school, playing sing-song games against walls, like Meemies-Tabapsies. We also had a game where you put the ball into the foot of a leg of old panty hose and stood with your back to the wall and banged it around at various points around you as you sang a song. At least, we were only allowed to use old ripped up panty hose, but other kids would buy new ones for that purpose. We also played hop scotch if anyone had chalk, or we'd use a stick and play in the gravel driveway.

I asked for a skipping rope, but only ever got a single skip rope. The girls at school would have the long ropes for double-dutch and we spent many recesses occupied with those games, particularly in grades 5-8. Our other favourites were dodge ball and clapping games like Concentration or Categories. We also made cootie-catchers, but I don't recall if we had a name for them. They were the folded paper things that had numbers and answers in them and they were the deciding factor in disputes, or the answer to any question posed to them.

For baseball, my sister had a glove. I only had a glove from Finnish baseball, or pesapallo. I hated standing out, but having such an odd thing when every one else had a regular baseball glove certainly did that. It had a pocket that sat at the top of your fingers, so you had to try to miss the palm of your hand to catch it in the pocket on top. If the ball hit the palm of your hand it would hurt, because there was no padding on it.

I think we had, or my sister had, a frisbee, which she occasionally shared. She also had a hula hoop and kerplunkers, which were large marbles attached by a string at the top and you let them smack against each other. It was kind of a dangerous toy. She also had a slinky, silly putty, play-doh and a yo-yo. Are you sensing a pattern here, as well, or is it just me?

I had some hand-me-down skates and cross-country skiis. I had a mediocre bike. Whenever the police constables would come to school to do a community safety check, my bike would always fail, but I couldn't afford the upgrades, like a light, or a basket, or extra reflectors. Of course, helmets weren't required back then, but I can recall several incidents where one would have been useful.

The neighbourhood kids would play outside all summer, playing baseball on the street, instead of in a park. We would yell, Car! like kids who play street hockey. We would lose our ball to the neighbourhood crabby lady, who would come outside in her dressing gown, and if it landed in her yard, she'd confiscate it and say, "It's mine, now!" But we would get her back by 'knick-knocking', as we called it. Late at night, we'd either knock on her door or ring the doorbell, and then run away. Mischievous, I know.

We also had a deck of cards and our mom taught us several versions of Solitaire, and Rummy 500. With our friends, we played Go Fish, War, and many other games whose names I don't recall. A deck of cards was cheap entertainment.

I think we needed less entertainment than kids today. We had to use our imaginations. Also, it helped to have such a large group. We didn't seem to fight or need an adult to direct us. And we had that great place called "Outside" that was always available. In winter, we'd go tobogganning or skating at the local homemade rink at school or at the park. We occasionally played in playgrounds. We preferred to play group games with the neighbourhood kids.

Remembering My Pregnancies

1. WAS YOUR FIRST PREGNANCY PLANNED?
Yes.

2. WERE YOU MARRIED AT THE TIME?
Yes.

3. WHAT WERE YOUR REACTIONS?
Excited.

4. HOW OLD WERE YOU?
26

5. HOW DID YOU FIND OUT YOU WERE PREGNANT?
A pregnancy test at the doctors. The home pregnancy tests were negative.

6. WHO DID YOU TELL FIRST?
My husband, of course. He was at a sportsman's show and kept calling home to see if I'd heard yet. The guy he was with must have thought he was a wuss because he couldn't be away from his wife for a few hours without calling home four times.

7. DUE DATE?
November 21, 1990

8. ACTUAL DATE BABY WAS BORN?
November 26, 1990 after induction.

9. DID YOU HAVE MORNING SICKNESS?
Almost every day for nine months. I carried a plastic bag in my coat pocket so I'd be ready when I was on the subway. I would feel my palms sweat and mouth water, I'd think, "It's time." I'd get off the train, do it, and get on with my day. Only the first of many sacrifices for my kids.

10. WHAT DID YOU CRAVE?
Potatoes and bread. My husband would ask, "How are we having our potatoes, today?" One day I was in the mood for KFC and potato salad. My husband had made chicken and rice for dinner. The baby's wishes prevailed and he went out and bought me my heart's desire.

11. WHO/WHAT IRRITATED YOU THE MOST?
Varicose veins. Thanks for that, Hanna. No, really thanks. I used to have nice legs.

12. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CHILD'S SEX?
Female

13. DID YOU WISH YOU HAD THE OPPOSITE SEX OF WHAT YOU WERE GETTING?
No, although I was expecting I'd have a boy because everyone who saw me was convinced that's what I was carrying.

14. HOW MANY POUNDS DID YOU GAIN THROUGHOUT THE PREGNANCY?
22 pounds.

15. DID YOU HAVE A BABY SHOWER?
Yes, I had 3.

16. WAS IT A SURPRISE OR DID YOU KNOW?
I knew. I always guessed. But I pretended to be surprised.

17. DID YOU HAVE ANY COMPLICATIONS DURING YOUR PREGNANCY?
I developed a blood clot in my leg a week before delivery.

18. WHERE DID YOU GIVE BIRTH?
Mount Sinai Hospital, Toronto

19. HOW MANY HOURS WERE YOU IN LABOR?
Nine hours. It was only bad near the end.

20. WHO DROVE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL?
My husband. We had a new car and it had cloth seats. He was so worried my water would break and I'd ruin the seat so he made me sit on a green garbage bag for the last month of my pregnancy. Imagine!

21. WHO WATCHED YOU GIVE BIRTH?
My husband. My obstetrician, who came in even though he wasn't on call, and a nurse. It was change of shift and I wish the nurse I laboured with would have been with me through to the birth, but hey, I know, nurses need to go home after a twelve hour shift. It's not all about me. :/

22. WAS IT NATURAL OR C-SECTION?
Natural.

23. DID YOU TAKE MEDICINE TO EASE THE PAIN?
I had an epidural, no complications. It was wonderful, although I still felt the actual delivery.

24. HOW MUCH DID YOUR CHILD WEIGH?
8 lb 3 oz.

25. WHEN WAS YOUR CHILD ACTUALLY BORN?
8:15 p.m. Monday, November 26, 1990

26. WHAT DID YOU NAME HIM/HER?
Hanna Rebekka

27. HOW OLD IS YOUR FIRST BORN TODAY?
18.

28. WAS YOUR SECOND PREGNANCY PLANNED?
No, but the timing was good.

29. WERE YOU MARRIED AT THE TIME?
Yes.

30. WHAT WERE YOUR REACTIONS?
Thrilled.

31. HOW OLD WERE YOU?
28.

32. HOW DID YOU FIND OUT YOU WERE PREGNANT?
A pregnancy test at the doctors. I knew I was pregnant, even though two home pregnancy tests were negative.

33. WHO DID YOU TELL FIRST?
My husband, of course.

34. DUE DATE?
August 24, 1992.

35. ACTUAL DATE BABY WAS BORN?
August 26, 1992 after induction.

36. DID YOU HAVE MORNING SICKNESS?
Minimal, maybe five times in the whole pregnancy, so I was sure I must be having a boy since this pregnancy was so different from my first.

37. WHAT DID YOU CRAVE?
Chocolate.

38. WHO/WHAT IRRITATED YOU THE MOST?
Having to wear thick, support hose at all times (due to my previous blood clot in my leg) during an especially hot summer.

39. WHAT WAS YOUR SECOND CHILD'S SEX?
Female.

40. DID YOU WISH YOU HAD THE OPPOSITE SEX OF WHAT YOU WERE GETTING?
No, I was glad I had two girls because it saved on clothes since we were poor.

41. HOW MANY POUNDS DID YOU GAIN THROUGHOUT THE PREGNANCY?
20 pounds.

42. DID YOU HAVE A BABY SHOWER?
Yes, I had one after she was born.

43. WAS IT A SURPRISE OR DID YOU KNOW?
This time I was totally surprised, and wish I wasn’t because I didn’t look my best.

44. DID YOU HAVE ANY COMPLICATIONS DURING YOUR PREGNANCY?
I developed a blood clot in the same spot in the same leg at the same point in the pregnancy as last time.

45. WHERE DID YOU GIVE BIRTH?
Mount Sinai Hospital, Toronto.

46. HOW MANY HOURS WERE YOU IN LABOR?
Four and a half. Half of the time as my first, exactly.

47. WHO DROVE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL?
No one. I was already there for my appointment with my obstetrician when we decided he’d induce me, so my husband and my mom met me there.

48. WHO WATCHED YOU GIVE BIRTH?
My husband, my mom, the same obstetrician who delivered Hanna, and two nurses.

49. WAS IT NATURAL OR C-SECTION?
Au naturalle. They induced me, planning to give me my epidural once it was progressing, but then the anaesthetists got called away on emergencies, and they told me we had to “consider other options.” I was not impressed. “I want my epidural!” We gave laughing gas a try but it was just a distraction and did nothing for the pain. Anyway, compared to a delivery with an epidural, it was quite an experience. I can relate to millions of women who gave birth in the days before epidurals, but that’s where the nostalgia ends. Give me an epidural anytime.

50. DID YOU TAKE MEDICINE TO EASE THE PAIN?
No other medications.

51. HOW MUCH DID YOUR CHILD WEIGH?
7 lb 8 oz.

52. WHEN WAS YOUR CHILD ACTUALLY BORN?
5:00 p.m. Monday,August 26, 1992

53. WHAT DID YOU NAME HIM/HER?
Leah Anneli

54. HOW OLD IS YOUR SECOND BORN TODAY?
16.

Childhood Games

My Timeline--1971

In grade two, I had a half-Finnish teacher. She had long red hair and was very pretty. She was single and seemed to all of us students, to have a crush on the Principal, a handsome man named Mr. Wright, of all things. We all giggled and whispered whenever he’d come to the door to visit her. He was married, though, and left the school at the end of the year. My favourite subject was spelling, and I got nearly perfect in it. I still have trouble with the words that I got wrong that year, like rhthym, which makes no sense to me.
Our singing teacher, was the Grade Three teacher. She used to teach us Sunday School songs, back before such things would be forbidden. I learned a lot of Bible stories through those songs, because she would explain the story behind the song. In opening cermonies, we used to sing O Canada, God Save the Queen, and recite the Lord’s Prayer. How different now.
Our school also held a bi-annual fun night, which I attended in Kindergarten, grade 2,4,6, and 8. I could hardly stand the wait in the interval. It wasn’t a huge production: just carnival-type games after-hours at school. Even just going to school in the evening helped make it magical. The games cost 10 cents each, and you could get prizes from the fishing pond, which was just a barrier that you put a fishing rod over. I was given a few quarters to spend, but it never seemed like enough. I say this, because the fact that this was a highlight of my life, shows again how poor we were. There was never any hope of going to Disney World, and they didn’t have play places for kids like they do now. We had to make our own fun. We played games with the neighbourhood kids: hide and seek, tag, kick the can, Red Rover, Green Green Red, Simon Says, Mother May I? War, skipping, ball games and baseball. Some kids had marbles, but we couldn’t afford them.
In my class, there was a girl, who had a bird’s last name. She also, ironically had webbed feet. If I didn’t see it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. She had a thin layer of skin between her first and second toe, on both feet.
At that time, we had a Finnish family move into our neighbourhood. They built a large house halfway up the hill. To me, they were rich. They weren’t, of course, but compared to us, they had everything. He was a contractor, and she was a cleaning lady, or as the Finns say, a ‘leaning lady.’
My friend, their daughter, also had an unpronounceable Finnish name that started with P. They had a sauna in their house, so I was there often. I slept over a lot, even on school nights. She had a double bed with pink satin sheets. She also had a clock radio and an organ. She was very independent. From an early age, she would cook her own breakfast.
Also, most summers we would visit various cottages, or “camps” as they’re called up North. There was one Finnish family who owned a camp on the same lake as my cousin (See My Favourite Place, Vacations). This particular camp was built on a “kallio”, which is a hill made of Canadian Shield Rock. The camp was made level by being raised up on bricks at the front. It never seemed very secure to me, but then it never fell over either. The “kallio” would slope down and the mossy slimy covering allowed you to slide down into the water.
I never liked driving there as a kid. You had to park up on the “kallio” and from where I was sitting in the car, I could only see out onto the lake, and when my Mom was backing up, I thought we’d roll right off the “kallio” into the lake. It was then that I realized I didn’t care for edges. I was hysterical. My mom had to let me out of the car so she could park it in peace, while I watched from safety.
This family had two daughters. The older one was chubby and the mom always drew attention to it, by making “diet pizza” and “diet brownies” for Shirley.
The dad was very harsh with them. He kept a switch tucked into the door jamb and he would use it on his daughters for the smallest reason, and even if we were around. I was afraid of him, even though he wouldn’t have threatened us. He was so different from my father. This man never seemed happy, except when he was drunk. Then he was just plain obnoxious. Once, he tipped my teenaged cousin off the air mattress she was lying on, on the dock, making her land on sharp rocks. I think he did it because she had her bathing suit top undone, and it fell off when he tipped her over. He made me nervous that way. He wall-papered the outhouse of their camp with pornography. As a little girl, I found it quite disturbing. What kind of man, with two daughters of his own, does that sort of thing?

Timeline--1970

In grade one, I was enjoying school, although all my report cards describe me as a “shy, quiet little girl”. I learned fast and my marks were good. Not knowing about many jobs for women, I alternated between saying that when I grew up I wanted to be a waitress, like my mom, or a teacher. It was also around this time that I first heard the gospel. See (My Testimony: Part One).
My grade one teacher, Miss Wightman was a good teacher, but she wasn’t as warm a character as my kindergarten teacher. One day, in the winter, my sister and I had gone home for lunch, as usual. We were latch-key kids. We had a key to the house on a piece of yarn, tied around our necks. My mom's hours of work at the restaurant were staggered, so she’d be there to send us off to school, leave lunch for us and be gone a few hours, then be home to cook dinner and then she’d be gone again after that. This resulted in my sister and I learning to fend for ourselves, or rather, for her to fend for us. I was a typical younger sister, and I let her do all the work.
Anyway, after lunch, we headed back to school. (The picture above is of that house, taken 25 years later, after new siding, windows and roof. The structure was the same, except that back then the porch had windows on three sides. The snow was typical of winters up north.) We came out the front door instead. We closed the door to the house behind us. It locked automatically. The key we had around our necks was for the back door only. When we tried to open the porch door, we found it was frozen shut by ice. We were little girls, and it wouldn’t budge for us. We were trapped. My only concern was that when we did get out, I’d be in trouble for being late. I had seen Miss Wightman’s temper against other students, and I didn’t want to experience it myself. I wanted to be well-thought-of. My sister was more concerned about how long we’d be stuck there. We knew my mom wouldn’t be coming home for a few more hours, and cell-phones were still science fiction back then, unless you counted the communicator on Star Trek or the shoe phone that Maxwell Smart had.
Anyway, our neighbour happened by and we waved frantically and shouted to get his attention. I think less than an hour had gone by but it felt much longer, and we were already feeling the cold. He rescued us and my sister started to walk to school. I panicked and started to cry. I told her I couldn’t go because I would get sent to the Principal’s Office. Back then they still used the strap and I was sure my offence was worthy of it. I was terrified. My sister told me she’d talk to my teacher and explain what happened. That didn’t console me. Again, I was dragged up the hill to school, crying and protesting. When we arrived, I hid around the corner of the hallway, sobbing, while my sister (she was in grade three), explained the situation to my teacher.
Much to my surprise, she took me in without yelling at me or sending me to the Principal’s Office for the strap. I guess she saw I had suffered enough. I took my place on the floor with my class. I was still choking back sobs while my classmates eyed me with curiosity. I was just embarrassed at that point. It was such a traumatic day, yet I clearly remember the lesson was about fractions and she had a picture of a pie that was divided into four pieces, up on the easel. I guess I remember because I was trying to concentrate on the lesson and get control of myself.

Happy Moments

Five moments in my life (so far) that I believe I will remember happily in my old age.

1. Our wedding day. I felt like a princess with my prince. It was a small enough wedding that we had our close friends there.
2. When I gave my husband his gift on our 19th wedding anniversary. It was a romance book I had written for him secretly over a few months. He said it was the best gift I had ever given him, because I put so much of myself into it. It also reawakened my love for writing. I said, “Hey, I can do this.” I haven’t stopped since.
3. When we celebrated my husband being five years’ cancer free. I really began to believe he’d survive and I feared recurrence much less. We also had a great big party with friends that went very smoothly.
4. When we celebrated my husband being ten years’ cancer free. Now it’s just a bad memory with lingering health effects. But at least he’s in my life, instead of just my memories.
5. The conversion of both our daughters and the joy of seeing them live Christian lives. It’s what every Christian parent desires for their child.

Timeline--1969

We bought our house. We lived there all through my school years so I never had the stress of changing schools. It cost us $10,500.00 which was less than the down payment on our mortgage, but those were different days, and it wasn’t much of a house. (See Singing the Poor Girl Blues in Memoirs). Since my mom’s English was limited, as were her life skills regarding purchasing a house, I recall going house-hunting with her while my sister was in school. The Finnish Consulate, himself, Mauno Kaihla, took us around. When I look back on that, I think that was very nice of him. I always had an admiration for him. The nursing home section of the Finnish Rest Home was named after him. The unfortunate thing was that years later, he died in hospital, waiting for placement. He couldn’t get to the top of the list any faster even though it was named for him. Ironic, eh?
I started school. They didn't have Junior Kindergarten at my school, so I was five. I went to Cody Public School. It was a beautiful old building on top of the hill. It was built in 1919. Each room had a large walk-in closet with two doorways, which they quaintly referred to as a cloakroom. A few years back the school was demolished to make way for condominiums. What a sad thing. So much history, and it had beautiful dark wood railings on the stairs. I hope those were salvaged. It makes me sad that I can’t go back there to walk on the grounds and reminisce. It’s like it was a dream to me.
My first day of school my mom came with me, and I didn’t leave her side for a moment. The next day, my sister was tasked with taking me. I cried, screamed, and fought. She dragged me up the hill in front of our house towards the school, as my mom watched from the window and cried. Although I’m sure I want’ amused by it at the time, I smile now as I remember being dragged that way for a few days until I submitted, passive-aggressively, to go to this place full of strangers.
I liked my teacher, Mrs. McDonaugh. She had black hair and was very kind. She used to say that if we were naughty, she would be very cross. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it wasn’t good. I wanted her to like me. Once, I mistakenly called her Mom, which showed the affection I felt for her.
At school I was a real rule follower. It carried over to home. I would wake my mom up in the middle of the night. When she’d roll over and wake up, I’d say, “May I please go to the bathroom?” Eventually, I stopped asking permission at home.
One thing I didn’t mind about school was the toys. They had a whole toy kitchen with dishes and a stove and ironing board, and dolls. I loved it. We had so few toys at home.
My best friend in my early years was Sherri. She was Italian and Catholic. She would talk about going to her first communion. She showed me pictures of herself in a fancy white dress and gloves. I had no idea what she was talking about.
She also had amazing toys. I loved playing at her house. She had many dolls with real baby clothes that her mom washed in Ivory Snow. She had a buggy and crib with beautiful blankets for her dolls. She was fastidious with her belongings. I could never have her over to play at my house because I had no toys, but I appreciated that she shared hers. She also had the best school supplies at the beginning of each year, including a 64 pack of crayons, with a sharpener built-in. I had an 8-pack, maybe twelve, and not much else. It was hard not to be envious.
I had no paper to write on to practice my letters. I dreamed of having a blackboard like at school. Instead, I took the one page I had from school and glued it on the wall of my room. Yes, I glued it, so it would be like writing on a blackboard. When I got to the edge of the page, I just continued with my crayon on the wall. We eventually wall-papered over that, years later, but my early homework was up there for years. Years later, I saw a commercial where a child was writing on a refrigerator. I said to my mom, “Who would let their kid write on the fridge?” She said, “I seem to remember someone who wrote on the wall.”

Timeline--1968

We went to Finland in the summer. (See My Mother’s Sacrifice in Memoirs). Although I liked a lot of things about Finland, I already thought of Canada as my home. My Finnish cousins said that when I was there I kept saying, “I want to play in English.”

Timeline--1967

I have assorted vignette-type flashback memories of life on our farm before my Dad died on October 31, 1967 after a motor vehicle accident at work. (See Fathers and Daughters, and My Father’s Death in Memoirs).
Following his death, we sold the farm and lived with my mother’s brother and his family for a few months. I think this was also a small apartment with one or two bedrooms. Then we lived on our own in a tiny apartment on the second floor of a house two doors down from the Finnish Lutheran church. It had a bedroom, hallway, a tiny kitchen, and bathroom that we shared with another Finnish family on the same floor.
I was beginning to learn English at the same time as my mom, by watching Captain Kangaroo, Mr. Dress-Up, and the Friendly Giant. Over time, my mother would speak only Finnish to us, so we’d retain it, and we’d answer in English, so she’d learn it. It’s still that way, unless I need to tell her a secret.

Timeline--1966

My parents bought a farm with my other aunt and her family. There were eight of us crammed into a tiny two bedroom farmhouse. I guess you do that when you have to. It had a good amount of property and the plan was to eventually sell off plots of land. No crops to speak of, only potatoes (a Finnish staple) and strawberries. There were four cows, and a bull named Mike. Mike once stepped over a chain link fence and it took the help of the neighbours to get him off the road and back home. We also had pigs, piglets, barn cats, and two German Shepherds, Wolf being my favourite. Our neighbours were a Finnish family of poultry farmers. Ironically, they had a dozen children. The oldest boys used to babysit us.

Timeline--1965

Our first home was a one bedroom apartment in the attic of a Finnish family. My father found work right away as a housepainter. The irony was that he was allergic to turpentine. He told my mother that as soon as he could learn the language he would find another line of work.

Timeline--1964

I was born in Vaasa, Finland on April 30th. Vaasa is on the west coast of Finland about half way up. There are many Swedes there since they are just a four hour ferry ride away. I was born there, as our Pastor would say, so I could be close to my mother. (Same jokes every time). I was overdue and mother was anxiously awaiting my arrival so we could fly to Canada to join my father and two year old sister, who had already been in Canada for a few months. The 1960’s saw the largest number of Finnish immigrants to Canada, mostly for economic reasons. There are only a handful of Finnish immigrants per year now, since Finland is in the EU and is doing so well.
When I was three weeks old, we arrived in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario via Montreal. My kids refer to me as a FOB (fresh off the boat) but I correct them that I’m fresh off the airplane. We lived for a few weeks with my aunt’s family.

Family Tree

A few years back, one of my adventurous cousins in Finland, took on the project of researching our family tree, on my Father's side. I really appreciate that he did this. I'm sure it was a very time consuming project. Currently, there's someone working on something similar for my Mom's side.
I found one aspect of this very interesting: my great-grandmother was not married, but had two sons by a man now known only by his last name, Raitanen. She therefore, having been abandoned by the scoundrel, who apparently went to "America" (which is Finnspeak for somewhere in North America), gave her two sons her last name, Annala, which was then the family name of my grandfather, father, and me, until I married. If he had been a decent man, we would have been Raitanens.
My father's father was in the merchant marines before he became a chimneysweep and father of nine. There's even a picture of the ship he served on. Imagine, a naval connection in the family!
The Raitanen/Annala incident just goes to show that every family has secrets, and that previous generations weren't somehow nobler than we.
It's nice to see the lists of all of my cousins, their spouses and children. As a nurse, I would have liked to know the cause of death of my relatives, purely from a health history perspective, to know what's in my genes, but I suppose there are privacy issues with that.
The family tree was presented in a spiral bound notebook and had some pictures I had never seen. It's a great thing to pass on to my kids. It gives a sense of connectedness to something bigger and a sense of belonging to a group. I had a great-great grandmother named Amanda. I see very little family resemblance even over just five generations. How much of me will there be in my descendants, I wonder?

Comfort Foods

When I was growing up, people would sometimes ask what typical Finnish food was. All I knew was what we ate; soups, stews and casseroles, with meat on special occasions. Don’t get me wrong; even though we were poor, we were never hungry. We may not have had a lot of extras or junk food, but we ate healthy food. Even if we had our standard potatoes; boiled or mashed, we would have gravy with meatballs, or hot dogs, cut up in it, or a white sauce with hard boiled eggs. We would get our protein that way. And when I left home, it was those things I remembered as the comfort food of home.
I think now I get a sense of security from a full fridge, freezer and pantry, although I know not to trust in those things. I’m thankful for the fact that we eat so well. It’s a blessing that you really only appreciate if you’ve had to do without.

Oncology Nurse on Purpose

When I meet someone for the first time and they ask what I do, I say, “I’m an oncology nurse.” It’s always the same response. If they know what oncology is, they then tilt their head to the side and say, “Aw, that must be hard.” That’s where I have a hard time knowing how to respond. They’ve already assumed I work at a horrible place, and now I must simple agree with it. But I don’t. How can you say, “No, actually I like it,” without sounding like a heartless woman who enjoys the suffering of others? You can’t.
So then I have to explain myself. "Actually, we’re an active treatment hospital. On my unit they walk in and walk out, because they come for overnight surgery or a day or two or three of chemotherapy. We have very few deaths on our unit. And I like the oncology population. They’re very real. They are dealing with the big issues of life and they usually want to talk about it. Sometimes, they just need to tell their 'story', how they were diagnosed, or how they’re treatment is going. I enjoy teaching patients, letting them know what to expect with their chemo or surgery, or talk with them about how they're coping. I get a lot of satisfaction when a patient says, 'Thanks.'” Then, they kind of understand.