B6 Terrace Review — Wednesday, December 19, 1990 Wednesday with Fae by Fae Mooney Dreams do come true When I look into that still pool of life, and see a reflection of what I once was, I see — not a irue represen- tation of life, but rather — a some- what altered view, altered by the expanding ripples of time. I see my life reflected, as I enjoy remembering it... Faery Tale Princess Sometimes when I think of my life | feel like a fairy tale princess. Every fairy tale has tragedy and triumphs. But always it has a happy ending. And enduring true love. This year my husband and I celebrated our Twenty-fifth Wed- ding Anniversary. A SILVER ANNIVERSARY. It seems to mark a milestone in a marriage relationship. Those 25 years now gone were devoted to family and children and building a home. Our home has been built, and re-built. Now the nest is empty. At this point in our marriage the emphasis changes. From now on it will be just the two of us again. All the hopes and dreams of our Wedding Day in 1965 have been realized. They’ve been lived, Memories and souvenirs fill scrap books and photo albums... . Where do we go from here? The weeks leading up to our an- niversary were a time of reflection for us both — on shared memories of these past twenty-five years together, on what we have done with our lives, what we have accomplished, and what we hope yet to do. Where do we go from here... What are our goals and dreams for the next twenty-five years... And where have we been? A Time of Reflection All those girlhood dreams | packed with me on my journey back east those 25 years ago... A journey by train, three days and three nights across three thousand miles of Canada to marry my handsome RCAF airman. In a little chapel on an Air Force base in Ontario we were mar- ried. _ And like so many others have done, we honeymooned at Niagara Falls. Our happy-ever-aftering continued for another two years in Ottawa, compliments of the Department of National Defense. The nation’s capital was an exciting place to be during those count-down months to centennial year, And as Canada celebrated its 100th birthday during the summer of 1967 our first son was born. One night, a few months later, deep in a Yukon winter, I held my precious sleeping baby in my arms and felt a contentment I never dreamed was possible. I was living my girlhood dream... - Three years later a new baby arrived. And again we had been transferred. We were poor in those days. I didn’t feel poor, but we were. The apartment building we lived in was run-down, and we drove an old Volkswagen painted rust primer red. And on payday, after the bills were paid, whatever money was left we divided, as we had done as honeyMooneys in Ottawa. (During those carefree and romantic early days of our marriage, we used to Dutch treat ourselves to supper downtown and a movie. But in North Van there was never enough left. Even so, what little there was pur- chased a wealth of memories...) I remember payday afternoons. | remember my little toddler helping me push baby in his buggy up Lonsdale Avenue to Scottie’s Discount Store. Then, our shopping done, we walked down to the corner pharmacy and spend our change on a treat to share at the park. Sometimes we packed a snack of fruit and crackers and cheese. With a blanket spread beneath a towering tree, we picinicked. And later, while baby slept, | watched my toddler play. Payday afternoons at the park... It’s true — the best things in life don’t cost much at all. And so passed our first five years together, Hubby had left the Armed Forces. We moved again. Big Brother began kindergarten. How quickly my dream was being lived. How precious the moments: I remember brisk autumn mornings. I remember my Little toddler and I walking Big Bro’ to school. And because his big brother had a lunch kit, of course L’il Bro’ musi have one too — Daddy’s. It was almost as big as he was, covered with ~ taped-on pictures of puppies and kittens to look like Big Bro’s ‘and‘inside it held his recess, just like Big Bro’s, and, of course _ the ever-present HuggyBear. Every morning off we three would g0, two lunch buckets swinging in mittened hands... And then, one spring, I found the home of my girlhood dreams. In old Port Hammond. A cozy little cottage with two big front windows, just as 1 had so often imagined. Those big front windows gave the tiny house an ainmated appearance, as if it had a life of its own. With the blinds partly pulled down, it hada contented look, and ! liked to think it was satisfied with its new occupants. A white picket fence bordered the property, and a rose arbour arched over the front gate. The big back year had > trees to climb and a sandbox to.play in... We acquired a cat and a dog. In time a club house was built. For five dream-come-true years we lived in that little white house with its contented look a Special , occasions to mark beginning and white picket fence around the yard, just as I had imagined I of 1 99 1 would. A career mom I was, there with fresh-baked cookies and tall glasses of milk for my guys when they came home from school every afternoon, there to listen and to talk to share... A full-time homemaker I was, there with my wardrobe of aprons, knitting winter mittens, washing windows, and being ecologically con- scious even before it was popular to be so... An avid volunteer, too, chairing the school auxiliary, editing the community-school association newsletter, teaching Sunday School... And I was there to greet Hubby at the end of a wearying day, to prepare for him a satisfying meal and a quiet haven away from the turmoil out in the world... I did it all. 1 had it all, It was a time of happy-ever- aftering. 1 was living my fairytale dream... . Our tenth anniversary. A second honeymoon. Hubby and I slipped away to Victoria for a weekend at the Empress. We did all the things we had done on our first honey- moon — visited museums, saw the sights, ate lunches in lovely little restaurants rich with atmosphere, and walked along the har- bour by night... Fifteen anniversaries passed. And we moved again. In 1980 we left the Lower Mainland for Terrace. Difficult years lay ahead. Our life together changed. The dream of happy-ever-aftering end- ed. Or so it seemed. In 1981 death snatched from me two people whom I loved dearly, and early in the following year Hubby’s dad died. The summer of ’84 L’il Bro’ was hit by a car; his skull, fractured. For six weeks he and I were never far apart. At night we slept — within arms reach of each other. Every night he took my hand in his and held it tight. But in sleep, our grip on each other would relax, [ remember waking throughout the night to feel his young hand groping to find mine and hold it tight again. 1 gripped his firmly in return, Both of us then, reassured by each other’s grasp, slipped back into sleep... And he got well. In 1985, our twentieth anniversary year, I prepared to relaunch my career as a freelance writer, Big Bro’ graduated from high school and began his first year of university at Northwest Com- munity College. And our home burned... Abruptly it all ended. Too soon. Those dreams of a home and children were ending too soon. Too soon.. It was time to let go. Time to send away the precious little baby ] held in my arms with such contentment that Yukon night nineteen years ago... Twenty-one years before, on ‘the same day he left home, this B.C. girl arrived in Toronto along with all her hopes and dreams, a bride-to-be. What remained of our home — of our lives — had to be rebuilt. But it would never be the same again... Two years later, in his graduation year, L’il Bro’ joined his big brother in Prince George. The nest was empty. And the happy-ever-aftering? What had happened to it... In December 1989, Hubby lost his job, Five weeks later the . fairy tale princess was in hospital... A financial setback; recovery from major surgery... A 25th wedding anniversary. A Time of Celebration Fairy tales are stories of dreams-come-true, of miracles, of hope and true love. Intermingled with it all are adversaries and tragedies. But always there is a happy ending. A wedding day is not the end of a dream-come-true fairy tale. It’s only the beginning. The beginning of happy-ever-aftering. Every marriage has its ‘‘for better or for worse’. At times for us it seemed there was more ‘‘worse’’ than ‘‘better’’. But we have stayed together through both. Through the happy times in Ot- tawa and old Port Hammond, and the hard times. On the eve of our anniversary we shared a glass of wine and toasted our life together, remembering the events of twenty-five years ago, that marked the beginning of this journey. We drank wine by firelight and danced in its warm glow... and reconfirmed our love for each other, The next morning, our anniversary day, we enjoyed an in- timate silver honeymoon breakfast... as dream-like as a fairy tale romance. And for tomorrow, and all our tomorrows? My hope chest long ago became a memory chest. Emptied of linens and dreams, over the years it became filled with worn-out teddy bears and memories. But Hubby had a wonderful idea: we would begin another hope chest. And this one we will fill with things for our future grandchildren. And for us? Hopes and dreams, new goals to pursue... What memories will our 50th anniversary hold... In the meantime, this faery-tale princess will continue living her ~~ happily-ever-after story... Dreams really do come true. If you believe in them. The New Year in Terrace will begin with Alzheimer Awareness Month, but that’s only the first of a number of special occasions. January has been declared Alzheimer Awareness Month by Terrace city council, recognizing that Alzheimer costs are high in both human terms and health-care dollars. And paying the bulk of . that cost are the Alzheimer suf- ferer, family and care-givers. Alzheimer’s disease, the fourth leading cause of death after heart disease, cancer and stroke, affects one in five people beyond the age of 65 years and is the cause of some 10,000 to 12,000 deaths annually in Canada, January is also host to another event. During the two weeks from January 15 to 31 we will see the annual Kinsmen Mother’s March Campaign in our area. All pro- ceeds from this worthwhile cause go to the Kinsmen Rehabilitation Foundation and will be used to help those in need. February 18 to 24 is Heritage Week. In cooperation with the Heritage Society of B.C. and B.C. Heritage Trust, the city will cele- brate Community Heritage Week, a time to take pride in our cultural heritage. This event is getting bigger every year according to organizers. In some cases indivi- dual activities are becoming an annual tradition in their own right. The final event slated to cele- brate 1991 is the Pacific Northwest Music Festival March 10-23. Mayor Jack Talstra has been invited to address the community during the 26th Annual Gala Per- formance on March 23, NEW IN TOWN? LET US PUT OUT THE MAT FOR YOU! be sure to call hy, aN an il ‘Metame\ gon Karen: 638-0707 Katharin: 635-7504 Brenda-Lee: 635-2605 A Ball EAL ADAM POF MLR LAE LE he ER TET PR RT SUETT) get ree St iar ea SA Aah aia a i: tad! one pee ros: