Far From the Rowan Tree Day 73

What I did not expect was to get all the children back the day after I arrived home. Mrs Romanuk had had more than enough of them

The song was not long out and had just hit Canada and was to become number one in the charts and played every 10 minutes on the radio until even I grew tired of hearing it.

But that night in the black interior of Henry’s car it hit me like a shot of lightning.

It’s hard to explain the effect it had on me now that the song has become so well known and, because of that, rather hackneyed.

Then it was fresh and the combined Scottish voice, emotion bending music, brave, sad, nostalgic words, spoke directly to me with a kind of glory.

I had seen Andy Stewart perform, heard him sing before coming to Canada. His indomitable, perky Scottish personality now stood before me. But it was much more than that.

Homesickness swept through me more than it had done since coming to Canada. I saw again the soft contours of the Sidlaw hills, the emerald valley, the silver river and I knew then that however much I grew to love this adopted land, I could never think of it as home.

Our children might but for me Scotland would always mean “hame and destiny”. “The baby’s going to be a boy,” Ronald said. “A Scottish soldier.”

Homecoming

I got home with my new baby after a week in hospital. We had decided before the birth that if it was a boy, we would call him Grant, a Scottish name, a family name and one that Canadians would have difficulty in shortening or pronouncing differently.

Ronald and Henry had scrubbed and cleaned the house so that I would have a happy homecoming.

Our children had been staying with the Shroers. Ted’s practical wife, Heidi, had offered to take them and wanted nothing for it. She said she might call on me some day to do something similar for her.

Carmen’s three children were being looked after by her landlady Mrs Romanuk. The latter had watched me rather jealously in the past, looking after Carmen’s kids and making money that she might have been earning. I wondered if she might want to take over my job altogether.

What I did not expect was to get all the children back the day after I arrived home. Mrs Romanuk had had more than enough of them.

Tommy, I expect, was the stumbling block. He was hard to handle for someone who might take him the wrong way.

To begin with, the days after Grant’s birth were difficult. By night time I was exhausted but I struggled on and managed to breastfeed Grant as I wanted to do. I had done the same for all the others.

Fortunately, he was a placid baby and slept a lot. Later on, however, he had his times for howling when nothing would pacify him except to carry him upside down under my arm.

Frightened

The rocking motion would put him to sleep. How very handy it would have been to have had one of these backpacks for carrying babies that are commonplace nowadays.

I tried, unsuccessfully, to tie him on my back with a shawl, gypsy-style but I hadn’t the skill to do it properly and was frightened he would slip out.

Presents began arriving by post for the baby. I hadn’t told anyone back home about the expected birth until it happened – not even my mother as I didn’t want to worry her.

The parcels contained useful clothes for Grant. I didn’t need to buy much, what with the presents and what I had left over from Mahri-Louise’s baby days.

By Scottish standards the temperatures were very low in that, our third Canadian winter but according to Edmonton standards they were comparatively mild.

However, we never felt cold indoors and it was lovely having the sun out almost every day.

Over the winter the sale of acreages etc was poor but we managed to survive. Our finances were in a sorry state once again when just before Easter, Ronald managed to sell an expensive property on the outskirts of Edmonton.

He got a good price for it and the commission was substantial.

Mr and Mrs Dacres were the name of the sellers. They were very pleased with the price they got. Mrs Dacres came to know Ronald quite well during the transactions and knew all about us.

“Why not bring the family out at Easter,” said Mrs Dacres. “I would sure like to meet them. Bring them before we move.”

And so one afternoon we arrived for tea and cake. It was a bright day but still winter with a sharpness of frost in the air. The land around us was covered in snow and sparkled brilliantly in the sunshine.

I had Grant well wrapped up in a shawl and was standing outside with Ronald and the kids talking to Mr Dacres and admiring the scenery. I wasn’t allowed to stand long.

The scrawny frame of Mrs Dacres came rushing out from her house, lifted the baby from my arms and rushed back inside with him.

A shock

When I got in she was sitting nursing him, her kind bespectacled face watching, worrying in case he had got cold. I thought I would never understand these Canadians.

After Easter a shock awaited us. It came in a phone call from Eileen in Vancouver, Ronald’s sister. “I’ve just had word from the police.” Eileen’s worried voice was on the other end of the line.

“Father is in a hospital in Los Angeles seriously ill. Harold and I are flying down right away to find out how things are and see what we can do. Seemingly he was on his way to Vancouver.

“He never told us he was coming. He’d travelled by ship round Cape Horn. The journey had been a rough one plus he’d forgotten to take his heart pills with him.

“He never consulted the doctor on board ship. They didn’t know about his heart condition until he collapsed.

“They put him ashore at Los Angeles and into hospital. I’ll phone you when I get there and let you know how things are.”

(More tomorrow.)