Before the Return

When I first saw this photo of my step-grandmother, it really touched my heart. There she is, standing behind the shed, her hands clasped behind her back while she looks down in thought. Did she just make a trip to the clothesline to hang that sheet and then take a moment for herself? Was she worried about something? Someone? Or did she just step out of sight to take some time for herself, to breath in the fresh morning air and feel the warm sun on her shoulders? I have so many questions, including who took the photo. I suspect it was my stepfather.

Juana “Jean” Perry (1885-1974)
Grammie Perry

Juana Madeline (Greenwood) Perry was born February 16, 1885 in Shelburne County, NS. Her first name was pronounced wah-nuh, but she was called “Jean” as it was easier for most folks, given the unusual spelling. On December 28, 1908, Jean married Enos Elliott Perry and they settled in North East Harbour, Shelburne County, NS. She gave birth to eight children; six boys (Elliott, Osborne, Harold, Ralph, Norman, my stepfather Eugene) and two girls (Mildred, Laura Ellen who died in infancy). She lived during two world wars and watched four of her sons enlist in WWII, one of which was my stepfather. They all came back home safely.

Who might have taken the photo?

Just before boarding the newly commissioned HMCS Amherst in August 1941, my stepfather Eugene bought a little Kodak camera. I have several photo albums documenting his many trips across the Atlantic during WWII. In his words, they were “the best years of my life”.

Looking at this photo of Grammie Perry, I think it was taken mid-1940s. In 1945, she would have been 60-years old. I imagine her thinking and worrying about her sons’ return from the war. My stepfather might have arrived, duffel bag over his shoulder and camera in hand, running into the house asking where his mother was, excited to be home. Another family member might have directed him out to the clothesline. He drops his bag and runs around to the shed, finding her there in a moment of quiet solitude. With a photographer’s eye, he admires her for a second or two, inhaling a thankful breath before quickly depressing the camera’s shutter. Then hearing him call “Mom”, imagine the look on her face as she turns around to see her son safe and home from the long war.

By the time I came around in 1965, Grammie Perry, as she was known to me and her many grandchildren, family members and friends in the community, was about 80-years old. After the war, my stepfather built a house next door to Grammie’s house. That is where I grew up. When I was old enough to run by myself along the worn path between her house and ours, I would go visit her and Grampie most days. She passed away October 6, 1974 at the age of 89. I was 9-years old.

What drew me to this photo is that it’s not typical. There are no smiling faces, no activity or action that would be an obvious subject for the camera. I’m not sure that my depiction of what might have happened is true, but the photo evokes such a soft sweet emotion and it moved me to try and recreate it in a watercolour painting. Mind you, I have not been painting very long. It’s an artform I decided to try during a Covid lockdown. I hope you like it.

“Before the Return”

Prints of this little painting will be available for sale on my site in the very near future.

NOTE:
You may notice a few changes on this blog and website over the next few weeks or so. I appreciate your patience and I promise everything will be as it should very soon.

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Transitions & Traditions

Happy Holidays everyone!

It’s an extra special milestone for me this Christmas 2021 as this time last year I was in the hospital receiving the gift of a kidney transplant. This year, I got to spend Christmas with my family. I actually got to eat lobster on Christmas Eve as opposed to watching through live stream on my cellphone. But thank heavens for modern technology. I would have been lonely without it.

A sweet friend gave me this beautiful kidney ornament. It is designed by Ali Harrison, an artist based in Toronto, Ontario. You can visit her website at www.lightandpapershop.com to see more of her amazing work.

For me, this ornament represents my journey from a slowly debilitating illness, the transition to wellness through the gift of a new kidney, and then the freedom of new beginnings, new adventures and experiences, and new traditions. This ornament will hang on my Christmas tree every year.


Now that I’m feeling better I want to pick up where I left off, over 2 years ago, and continue with my blog. Only this time I want to change directions and focus more on the things that bring me joy. I have many hobbies and art activities that I like to do – sewing, painting, wool spinning, weaving, beadwork, claywork and, of course, photography.

A little side note is that since my transplant, plants have stopped hating me so much and I actually have a few windowsills full of happy healthy ones, including an orchid. So, I guess I can add houseplant care to the list as well. Who would have thought!?

I will share the projects I make to either give you some comic relief (no seriously…lol) or encourage you to try something new or share your own arts or hobbies.

I recently did some brave purging and cleaned out three old trunks. The daunting weight of this task has been tormenting me for over 20 years. These trunks followed me home from my father’s house when he sold it a year after my mother passed away. They came with me when we moved 5 years ago, sitting in the basement and still taking up too much room. This year, as a mental health Covid-inspired challenge, I got down to business and dealt with them. Once I started, I quickly recognized that during the time since I had last opened the trunks, there had been a shift in me; a transition. When many years pass, life events and experiences sometimes, if we’re lucky, give us pause to see the past in a different light; a fresh perspective with a renewed understanding of how it is all a part of you and instead of avoiding or ignoring it, you want to embrace and record these precious pieces of the past. My past.

A few items of memorabilia from the trunks.

I want to write about and share photostories about the memorabilia, souvenirs, photos and keepsakes – some belonged to my grandmother and great-grandmother, both of whom I had never met – and hopefully open conversations with you. Maybe you have stories of your own you’d like to share.

I find since the beginning of the Covid pandemic, many have taken the forced opportunity of being housebound to clean out, declutter, reorganize, simplify and, as an occasional bonus, even liquidate. After all, clutter affects our minds just as much as our living spaces. That is why I began the trunk task, but I am so very glad I did.

I hope you join me. I invite you to sign up for my blog so you don’t miss any of the photostories or other content. I promise not to bother you that often – maybe a couple of times a month. And if you missed the Sign Up pop up, you can also join by going to the form at the bottom of lisabuchanan.ca.

See you soon!


NOTE:
You may notice a few changes on this blog and website over the next few weeks or so. I appreciate your patience and I promise everything will be as it should very soon.

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My Other Father

On July 22, 2019 at approximately 4:30 pm, I said good-bye to my other father for the last time. He had suffered with lung cancer for several years before choosing medical assisted death at Valley Regional Hospital in Kentville, NS. He was surrounded and comforted by family, and passed peacefully into a better place on his terms. No more pain or suffering.

Photo of Roy, taken by my sister Karen, just a few years ago – in his early 80s.

He loved life. He loved his family, socializing with friends, meaningful conversation, and the written word. He was a philosopher, a thinker. A free spirit. In his earlier years he rode a motorcycle. He loved the outdoors and adventure. He was a great guy and I loved him. My favourite saying of his was, “You gotta make your own road”. This was an enlightening saying for me as I had been brought up by parents who preferred to always tell me which road to take at every turn; but I was loved and cared for very well.

To all of you who wondered, speculated or assumed who my biological father was, and there are many of you, his name was Roy Thomas Kerr. My mother never told me his name. She didn’t tell me much, really. She said that “he” had children so I knew I had siblings, but that was it. I wish with all my heart that she had told me her story, and that is an unfortunate mystery. It was Dad who told me his name. Someone had said something about who they thought my father was, and I was quite sure, knowing my mother, that they were wrong. So I simply asked Dad. It was a year after Mom had passed away. Dad told me his name and then said, “Why don’t you look for him.” So I did.

Roy as a young man.

Roy and I met for the first time in the summer of 2001. It was wonderful and I loved him from the start. Just looking at him answered a lot of questions. I see my mother in the mirror, but it is Roy who I resemble more. My mother comes out of my mouth…a lot, which makes me chuckle. I have her hands (which warms my heart), her legs, and, unfortunately, her kidney disease. I know she had her reasons for not talking, but still wish she had. It may have quieted other tongues.

During Roy’s last earthly hour,  I told him that I loved him. But more than that, I wanted to tell him “thank you”. Thank you for that first initial phone conversation. Thank you for accepting me into his life and making me feel part of the family. I have 3 sisters, a brother and a brood of nieces, nephews and more. I am blessed in many ways.

Roy Thomas Kerr
October 26, 1933 – July 22, 2019

Roy passed away peacefully July 22, 2019 at the Valley Regional Hospital in Kentville at the age of 85.  He was grateful for the assisted dying option after living with lung cancer for a time. Born in Manitowaning, Ontario, he was the youngest son of Elizabeth (Collins) and Thomas Kerr. Roy served in the RCN for five years on the HMCS Magnificent.   His marriage to our beloved mother, the late Agnes (Hirtle) in 1953 lasted 62 years.  From this union he had four children;  Jody Kerr (Gina), Espanola, ON;  Gail Crofton (late Barry Crofton), Halifax; Julie Kerr van Roestel (Dan McNally). and Karen Kerr (Colby Daniels) Coldbrook.   Roy also was the father of Lisa Buchanan (Chett), Shelburne.   Dad and Mom retired to Centreville where they greatly enjoyed the fellowship of Centreville Baptist Church.   Dad, an avid reader and debater, was appreciated for stirring conversation in his church study group.   He was the best Grandpa and was often seen in the stands or on the sidelines at his grandkids games.  His well-loved grandchildren are Ben King; Tashina, Jordan and Tiffany Laurin; Aaron, Talia and Lee van Roestel and Alex Buchanan. Former son-in-laws, Jack van Roestel and Richard Laurin, were still considered part of the family by Dad.  He was extremely proud of his family.    In the last year and a half he found new love, and great companionship. in his sweetheart, Sylvia Myles.   His lively spirit, inquiring mind and irreverent humour will be greatly missed.  We love you Dad/ Grandpa!  No funeral service requested.    Online condolences can be posted at www.tjtracey.com.

On Sunday, August 4th, I along with my sisters and their families will gather to remember and celebrate Roy.

Love and miss you always, Roy.
In reference to the musical “Stop the World: I Want to Get Off”, a saying you quoted often, your world has stopped and you are finally free.

Me, Roy and my sister, Karen. Thanksgiving 2017.

Me, my sister Karen and Roy during a Thanksgiving family gathering, 2017.

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