Firstborn
Childbirth; a breeze. As in nothing to it. I'm a physically small woman, almost slightly built. We were visiting my husband's grandparents who were in the process of selling their home. A young Italian couple was looking at the house and we somehow began talking. They couldn't believe we were married, Irving and I, as we both looked like little kids. Not only were we married, but I was pregnant and the man in particular looked me over with the most incredulous look on his face. Turning to his wife, he said, shaking his head with disbelief, that it just wasn't possible, I hadn't the bodily width to conceive, much less deliver. We were both 22 then, and of course heard all manner of horror stories about difficult pregnancies, dreadful birth experiences. None of which fazed me, as I felt that giving birth was the most natural thing in the world, and we'd just do it. We did, and experienced no problems whatever.He was, for my size, a big baby, just over 7 pounds, and we were incredibly excited, so happy. My husband took a week off work in holiday time and we managed, together, to acquaint ourselves with the little stranger in our midst. He was as adept as I in changing diapers, burping, bathing, but only I was able to breastfeed our child. Like everything else we did in our long married life, we did this together, both of us in perfect concert. Our baby thrived, and so did we, watching him grow, become aware, react. Everything our baby did was a matter of delight and exploration. This baby grew happily and contentedly. When, one and a half years later, a little sister came along, our little boy used to take his favourite stuffed toy and breast feed it while I fed his baby sister. Another year and a half, and our little boy had a baby brother. He took it all in stride. He was a placid child, curious about the world about him but also cautious, despite his penchant for exploration.
When he was nine or ten years old, he somehow became fascinated with Astronomy. Aside from taking our children, as they grew, to area parks and conservation areas around Toronto, we also took them to the Royal Ontario Museum, and of course, to the Ontario Science Centre among many other places. It was the new Planetarium that inspired our little boy's interest in Astronomy and he soon became a member of the Ontario Branch of the Royal Astronomical Society. His father would take him downtown every Saturday to attend meetings and lectures and telescope-making workshops. We thought perhaps that that would be where his future would be. The large telescope we bought for him around that time sits, boxed, in our basement, so many years later.
When we moved to Ottawa, he was about thirteen. He and his sister were introduced to playing recorders in their school music class, and they both took to the instrument. Our son had been introduced to music in Toronto (we'd taken them on occasion to the O'Keefe Centre) and he lugged home from school an euphonium alternately with a viola. His interest in Astronomy waned as his interest in music waxed, and he began acquiring musical knowledge and sheet music and books as rapidly as he had formerly done with Astronomy. He took private lessons for viola, and for recorder, acquiring throughout the process his own instruments. Our house became a concert hall in practise, and we chauffered him about from one orchestral practise to another, one concert presentation to another.
When he became 16, he was diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes, and our lives were turned upside-down for a while. Some of his friends visited him in hospital, bringing along their own musical instruments and impromptou concerts took place in the wards, children hanging off their beds wheeled out into the corridors so all could appreciate the music. The books he asked us to bring him while he was in hospital were history books, particularly those relating to the Middle Ages, and he devoured those books.
When he was 18 he decided that Ottawa wasn't able to offer him the kind of musical education he wanted, and he opted for the University of Toronto. We travelled to Montreal, hired a piano accompaniest, and he performed Vivaldi pieces for his entrance qualifications. He moved in with his grandmother in her Toronto apartment and attended U. of T. We spent a lot of time travelling between cities, missing him dreadfully. After three years in the Music Faculty, he decided to switch to Medieval History, so he changed campuses to the Centre for Medieval Studies. He's still there, but he's now 45.
He had the great good fortune to meet a young woman, some 16 years ago, whose interests, talents and intelligence, values and concerns echoed his own as closely as could be possible. She too studied early history. She too played a variety of musical instruments. She too had an enquiring mind. Fact is, we were dazzled by the breadth and depth of her intelligence and interests, and felt he was fortunate beyond belief. With some friends they began a music group and played music of the Medieval era. They produced a few tapes, went to England to produce a CD, performed regularly in an old Toronto church, were invited to various venues to perform, throughout Canada and the U.S.
Our daughter-in-law is soon to become our daughter-in-law. They have lived together for some 16 years, it is true. But they are now also to be married, formally, although both eschew such social convention. It is necessary, however, as she will be ascending the pulpit shortly as an Anglican minister.
Isn't life strange?
posted by Pieface @ Saturday, June 11, 2005
<< Home