Wednesday, June 17, 2009

LOOKING BEHIND

Places, names and settings are not simply stories learned as a child…

In adulthood we think we know all there is to know about our parents and other family members…

I’m finding there is plenty to learn about people who were once close to us…

Our greatest asset as human beings may be revealed by simply looking behind us.

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night but early morning and snowing lightly while my sister and I waited in a car outside a Montreal hospital for my brother’s birth…parking lots hadn’t been necessary back then so our car was parked on the street a block away from the hospital…it may have been parked closer but things always appear bigger when you’re a child, don't you think?… we were left in the car waiting for signs from Dad who would have had one or two fingers up on his way back from the birth…while pregnant mom was so large the doctor wasn’t sure if she would deliver twins or not…no ultra sound yet but you think maybe a stethoscope could determine one or two heartbeats?…and I wonder what deal Dad made with this doctor who allowed him to be in the delivery room…and I don’t recall how long we stayed alone in the car that morning…I often wish I could remember more about that day…I don’t recall the drive back home or if Sis and I went to school that morning or if my Dad stayed home or went to work…looking behind it was my memory failure beginning to set in.

Dad made a good living selling cigars, cigarettes and candy, and he had a sideline,… he ‘rented’ pin ball machines and one armed bandits to his regular customer-shop-owners’ to put in back of their stores or basements…A secret knock to get in?…but I’ll never forget going with him a few times a week to empty the coins in the machines and dad slipping me handfuls of dimes, nickels and quarters… afterwards he gave the shop owners’ their cut and Dad pocketed the rest…petty theft became my weekly allowance…I went to confession almost every week telling the priest about my allowance that I felt semi-guilty about…the priest usually gave me a penance of the customary five Hail Mary’s and Glory Be’s, after which I’d slip a buck or two in coins loudly in the poor box to be sure he’d hear the drop… Looking behind taught me a few things I don’t do anymore.

2 comments:

Julie Hibbard said...

The priest and the doctor were probably getting cuts from your father to keep their eyes half closed all the time...
plus a few cigarettes and cigars too!

Love this story!

Gina Vistaunet said...

I love your memories. I'm not sure what Grandpa really did, but I'm very surprised you turned out as good as you did. Your parents were a little crazy. Fun stuff.