Do You Remember Your Childhood Dream?

Tags

childhood, Diana Schwenk, dreams, family, growing up, Hump Day Chronicles, job, kids, memories, Mom, parents, passion, Purpose, Stuff my parents used to say and do

Mom dreamt of being a nurse

THE VERY FIRST DREAM I can remember having for my life was to be a rancher. I loved and wanted to be around horses. I imagined a picturesque piece of land with a quaint house, beautiful trees, a  river running out back and pastures filled with horses as far as the eye could see.

Other dreams I entertained included: being a veterinarian, psychiatrist, and the first female Prime Minister in Canada.

Needless to say, I did not become any of those things.

We can usually recall our own childhood dreams, but how many of us know what our parents dreamt of being?

It’s funny how most of us can’t even imagine our parents before our birth. It’s as if they never were children, didn’t exist before us at all.

Recently, Mom shared her childhood dream with me.

My mom grew up in Berlin during WWII. Some of her best memories include having to be hospitalized because she’d lost a good deal of her hearing due to ear infections. It was a time before Penicillin and so her ear infections resulted in damaged ear drums.

It was also a time of not enough food, or clothing, or warmth in the winter. And so staying in a hospital – even with a painful ear infection and in spite of significant hearing loss – was amazing and came with one’s own bed, three meals per day and nurses caring for you around the clock.

And so my mom dreamt of being a nurse. Someone who could care for children and make them feel as good as the nurses of her childhood made her feel.

~ HUMP DAY CHRONICLES ~

What was your childhood dream? Did you achieve it? Do you know what your parents’ dreams were?

The Patio Door

Tags

Chateauguay, childhood, Diana Schwenk, family, growing up, Hump Day Chronicles, love, memories, parents, Quebec, Relationships, Stuff my parents used to say and do

Mike and me standing in front of our house in Chateauguay, Quebec

WAY BACK WHEN our family lived at 111 Edgewood Drive in Chateauguay Quebec – before it became Chateauguay Centre, before Canada issued  postal codes and switched to the metric system, Dad used to say this thing that kinda drove Mom a bit crazy.

When Mike and I were knee-high to a grasshopper – ok, that’s a bit of an exaggeration – but we were little (see photo above), our family moved into the home we would grow up in.

It was a duplex. Dad sold part of his stamp collection for the down payment. The room that we spent most of our time all-together in was the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen from the hallway, one would notice the fridge to the right. It was a BIG one and the refrigerator (top) and freezer (bottom) were equal in size.

The kitchen table was on the left with bench seating that also doubled as storage areas by lifting the seats, ran along two walls and two chairs were placed across from the benches .

I sat on the bench on the short wall immediately to the left. Mike sat around the corner along the long wall. Dad sat across from me in a chair with his back to the patio door. And Mom sat across from Mike with her back to the stove.

On the long wall, where Mike sat, was the telephone. Remember when phones were on the wall and they had actual dialing? The phone was black and had a super long cord so you could walk to the sink or around the corner into the dining room for privacy – as if one actually had privacy whilst on the phone.

On the other side of the fridge, on the floor, is where Mom kept the penny jar, an old milk bottle, the kind that was delivered to one’s house and yes, we had milk delivered back then! Mom and Dad threw all their pennies into that bottle and by the end of each year, they’d saved $300 or more that was used toward Christmas shopping.

Along the adjoining wall is where our stove sat, cupboards  were above and on either side of the stove.

The next wall was home to the kitchen sink below a window that was covered with white lacy sheer curtains that were gathered and secured to each edge of the window frame with pretty ribbons. Beside the sink, one more cupboard and then the garbage can – you know the kind that you step on the foot petal thingy and the lid comes up?

Anyway beside that was the patio door and if you walked further, past the phone on the wall, you’d be in the dining room.

It was at that patio door, when it was raining,  that Dad would stand up, look outside and say that thing that drove Mom nuts.

“You know…if it was colder out, it would be snowing…”

I think he did it on purpose, because when Mom became frustrated by his comment because she’d heard it hundreds of times before, I saw the corners of his mouth curl into a smile in the reflection of the patio door.

~ HUMP DAY CHRONICLES ~

Road Trips to Franklin Centre, Quebec

Tags

apple orchard, Canada, childhood, Diana Schwenk, family, Franklin Centre, friends, growing up, horses, Hump Day Chronicles, joy, laughter, love, memories, Quebec

I got a phone call a couple of days ago from Margaret. Her and her husband James were visiting my parents. Our two families have a long history. My parents’ first job in Canada was picking apples on Margaret’s parent’s farm. Then years later my parents would visit with their young children in tow. I loved those trips to the farm.

As long as I can remember I have loved horses, so whenever we were heading out to the farm in Franklin, Quebec, I was beside myself with joy.

I can still remember those country roads from the backseat of Dad’s Mercury. The way the sun blinded me like an intense strobe light caused by the forward motion of the car and the canopy of trees.

You knew you were in farm country when the smell of horse manure began to waft through the windows. I didn’t care. While my family gagged at the smell, I breathed it in – it brought with it the promise of horses.

Uncle Andre, Tante Martha and their kids Christian, Margaret and Karen lived on a hundred acres that included an apple orchard and grazing land for cattle, a little Shetland pony and Poopsie, a Pinto mare.

It was in those years that Margaret taught me a German poem that I practiced over and over until it stuck, and to this day I still remember it. Let’s see if any of you can translate it!

Denke nie gedachts zu haben. Denn das denken der gedanken ist einen gedankenlosses denken. Wenn Du denkst, Du denkst denkst Du nicht Du denkst, Denn Du denkst gendankenloss zu sein.

On each trip to the farm, the moment we arrived, I wanted to head out on the land, but Mom insisted on good manners and so hurriedly I shouted hello to our hosts before running down that familiar path past the barn, into the orchard and beyond.

I can still remember the sweet taste of Macintosh apples plucked right from the tree. No apple since has ever tasted like that. There was the day my brother Mike and I pretended to be wolves and chased the cows up until we came upon the bull – then it was us who turned on our heels and ran for our lives toward the fence. And those glorious times I rode the pony, or Poopsie – I even rode a cow once!

Ahh the years visiting that farm are some of my happiest childhood memories.

And when it was time to leave and Dad’s Mercury headed down the long driveway to head back home, Margaret sat sans saddle on Poopsie and waited down below.

As our car turned right onto the country road, the pair galloped alongside us until they could keep up no more.

~ HUMP DAY CHRONICLES ~

What is your favourite childhood memory?