Meme-oires 03: My Parents
Sep. 3rd, 2010 03:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jamesqMy dad, Gordon William Cyr was born on September 3, 1934. He was the oldest of a large Catholic family.
My mom, Maxine Lorraine Cyr (nee Agnew) was born on May 8th, 1935. She was the youngest of a large Catholic family.
The upshot of this is that I had more uncles and aunts then I've ever been able to keep count of. All of the ones on my Mom's side are older then all of the one's on my Dad's side. My eldest uncle, Jim, took part in the Normandy invasion and would be pushing 100 now if he were still alive. Conversely, my youngest uncle, Tim, is only a few years older then my sister. All told about a 50-year range.
Dad was born in St. Boniface, which is part of Winnipeg. I remember stories of how Portage and Main was the coldest intersection in Canada (I suspect places like Yellowknife might give it a run for its money), how he used to sell newspapers to earn a few bucks for the family and how he'd alternately fight with his brothers - or fight people who dissed his brothers.
There is a photograph of him as an infant, being held by my Grandmother McGillis. She is flanked by her mother and her grandmother. Four generations of Cyrs in one photo taken in 1935: Father, grandmother, great-grandmother and great-great-grandmother! The photo currently resides in my Brother's house. Every Christmas they promise to scan and send me a copy and every year it doesn't happen. This year, I'm bringing a laptop and a scanner with me.
He joined the army (specifically the PPCLI)when he turned 18 - just in time to catch the tail end of the Korean War. He didn't actually serve in Korea though - he spent his time on bases in Canada and Germany.
He was fined for selling his rifle when training at Suffield. The Department of Defense said he sold it, my dad maintained that he'd lost it. They found the rifle on the base, when my dad was in his 60's. They paid back the fine when they managed to pull the serial number off the badly weathered/rusted/partially buried thing.
Meanwhile, my mother was born in Neepawa, Manitoba. The family moved to Calgary when she was a tween and she ended up attending St. Mary's high school. Let's just say she had a similar experience in school as I did and leave it at that.
Somewhere in there, my mom contracted polio. It paralyzed a group of muscles on one side of her back and caused her to have a hunch for the rest of her life. A quack convinced my grandfather that he could cure her with the power of Chiropractic "medicine". It didn't work. If it hadn't happened, my mom would have likely been six inches taller. It didn't otherwise affect her mobility. She could walk and run just fine. Growing up, I thought she had scoliosis. I didn't learn it was polio until a few years before she died.
My parents met at a dance after my mom graduated and while my dad was still in the army. The quote from that occasion was "Pardon me boys, I just saw the legs I'm going to marry". The old man was true to his word.
Dad had a number of jobs. He was a lineman (the guys who maintain power lines), a delivery man for a linen company (he got fired from that job when he unionized the employees), was the maintenance manager for the Macleod Trail Holiday Inn (giving me access to the pool for three entire summers) and the Majestic Inn (now the Calgary Dream Center). The oil bust put him out of work for a few years in the 80's, during which he was a house husband. He ended up working as a warehouse worker in CFB Calgary. He was also the civilian safety officer and shop steward for the warehouse. He retired three years early when they closed CFB Calgary.
Dad enjoyed one year of retirement with my Mom before he got hit with the stroke that took 8 years to kill him.
Mom was a stay-at-home mother for my siblings and I, but went back to work when I was 8. She worked for ten years repairing telephones, then got a civilian secretary/clerk position at CFB Calgary. Like dad, she retired three years early when the base closed. For both my parents, the federal government basically offered to simply pay the three years worth of wages because they were so close to retirement.
My dad was pretty clever, but wasn't an intellectual by any means. My mom on the other hand was born too soon. She really had the temperament and smarts to have been a scientist or engineer. Sadly she was raised in a time and place where that was very rare. Most of my smarts and sarcastic wit come from her. Dad gave me my work ethic and sense of loyalty. As combinations go, that's not too bad.
Mom was pretty serious. She wanted to save as much as possible for their retirement. Dad was more of a live-life-now guy. They compromised and split the difference - half to stuff right now and half for the long term. As things turned out, this was a pretty good philosophy. They didn't get to really enjoy much of their retirement before their health problems became unbearable.
They lived in three houses and had three children. They joked that they could never move again because they didn't want a fourth.
My mom died first. her second battle with cancer killed her, no doubt helped out considerably by the strain of trying to look after my now-disabled father. Dad lost his will to live and even so, it took over a year for him to finally die.
I try to remember them from when they were younger and healthier, but it's hard sometimes. I'd rather remember my father as the man who drove me to every early-morning exam I had during University (so I could get an extra half-hour of sleep), then as the bitter depressed invalid he became. I'd rather remember my mother as the smart generous woman who always encouraged me to think, then as the thin frail woman in a hospice bed. In fact, there's a multitude of preferable memories:
My mom, Maxine Lorraine Cyr (nee Agnew) was born on May 8th, 1935. She was the youngest of a large Catholic family.
The upshot of this is that I had more uncles and aunts then I've ever been able to keep count of. All of the ones on my Mom's side are older then all of the one's on my Dad's side. My eldest uncle, Jim, took part in the Normandy invasion and would be pushing 100 now if he were still alive. Conversely, my youngest uncle, Tim, is only a few years older then my sister. All told about a 50-year range.
Dad was born in St. Boniface, which is part of Winnipeg. I remember stories of how Portage and Main was the coldest intersection in Canada (I suspect places like Yellowknife might give it a run for its money), how he used to sell newspapers to earn a few bucks for the family and how he'd alternately fight with his brothers - or fight people who dissed his brothers.
There is a photograph of him as an infant, being held by my Grandmother McGillis. She is flanked by her mother and her grandmother. Four generations of Cyrs in one photo taken in 1935: Father, grandmother, great-grandmother and great-great-grandmother! The photo currently resides in my Brother's house. Every Christmas they promise to scan and send me a copy and every year it doesn't happen. This year, I'm bringing a laptop and a scanner with me.
He joined the army (specifically the PPCLI)when he turned 18 - just in time to catch the tail end of the Korean War. He didn't actually serve in Korea though - he spent his time on bases in Canada and Germany.
He was fined for selling his rifle when training at Suffield. The Department of Defense said he sold it, my dad maintained that he'd lost it. They found the rifle on the base, when my dad was in his 60's. They paid back the fine when they managed to pull the serial number off the badly weathered/rusted/partially buried thing.
Meanwhile, my mother was born in Neepawa, Manitoba. The family moved to Calgary when she was a tween and she ended up attending St. Mary's high school. Let's just say she had a similar experience in school as I did and leave it at that.
Somewhere in there, my mom contracted polio. It paralyzed a group of muscles on one side of her back and caused her to have a hunch for the rest of her life. A quack convinced my grandfather that he could cure her with the power of Chiropractic "medicine". It didn't work. If it hadn't happened, my mom would have likely been six inches taller. It didn't otherwise affect her mobility. She could walk and run just fine. Growing up, I thought she had scoliosis. I didn't learn it was polio until a few years before she died.
My parents met at a dance after my mom graduated and while my dad was still in the army. The quote from that occasion was "Pardon me boys, I just saw the legs I'm going to marry". The old man was true to his word.
Dad had a number of jobs. He was a lineman (the guys who maintain power lines), a delivery man for a linen company (he got fired from that job when he unionized the employees), was the maintenance manager for the Macleod Trail Holiday Inn (giving me access to the pool for three entire summers) and the Majestic Inn (now the Calgary Dream Center). The oil bust put him out of work for a few years in the 80's, during which he was a house husband. He ended up working as a warehouse worker in CFB Calgary. He was also the civilian safety officer and shop steward for the warehouse. He retired three years early when they closed CFB Calgary.
Dad enjoyed one year of retirement with my Mom before he got hit with the stroke that took 8 years to kill him.
Mom was a stay-at-home mother for my siblings and I, but went back to work when I was 8. She worked for ten years repairing telephones, then got a civilian secretary/clerk position at CFB Calgary. Like dad, she retired three years early when the base closed. For both my parents, the federal government basically offered to simply pay the three years worth of wages because they were so close to retirement.
My dad was pretty clever, but wasn't an intellectual by any means. My mom on the other hand was born too soon. She really had the temperament and smarts to have been a scientist or engineer. Sadly she was raised in a time and place where that was very rare. Most of my smarts and sarcastic wit come from her. Dad gave me my work ethic and sense of loyalty. As combinations go, that's not too bad.
Mom was pretty serious. She wanted to save as much as possible for their retirement. Dad was more of a live-life-now guy. They compromised and split the difference - half to stuff right now and half for the long term. As things turned out, this was a pretty good philosophy. They didn't get to really enjoy much of their retirement before their health problems became unbearable.
They lived in three houses and had three children. They joked that they could never move again because they didn't want a fourth.
My mom died first. her second battle with cancer killed her, no doubt helped out considerably by the strain of trying to look after my now-disabled father. Dad lost his will to live and even so, it took over a year for him to finally die.
I try to remember them from when they were younger and healthier, but it's hard sometimes. I'd rather remember my father as the man who drove me to every early-morning exam I had during University (so I could get an extra half-hour of sleep), then as the bitter depressed invalid he became. I'd rather remember my mother as the smart generous woman who always encouraged me to think, then as the thin frail woman in a hospice bed. In fact, there's a multitude of preferable memories:
- The man who carved walking sticks.
- The woman who coined the phrase "keeping up with the Jameses" to describe my Sister's attempts to buy all the same toys that I did.
- The man who liked nothing more then to park a camper in the middle of nowhere and do SFA for a weekend.
- The parents that spent two years going to garage sales buying every book they could in anticipation of starting a used book store that never happened (but gave all of us a huge library of reading material).
- The woman who introduced me to Star Trek.
- The man who loved war movies and westerns.
- The woman who read Harlequin romances until they turned into thinly-veiled porn, then switched to mainstream novels.
- The parents that gave me half the down payment for my home.
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Date: 2010-09-03 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-03 11:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2010-09-04 02:41 am (UTC)I _KNEW_ there was a reason I liked him... :)
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