Northgrove Notes

I cherish my cousins; all 12 of them! They range in age from 70s to 40s but each one of them is unique, important and so loved. Our respective parents were siblings and we were blessed to live in close proximity to one another. Since three of the families farmed together, we saw our cousins regularly and had ready-made playmates. Yes, we played and socialized, sang and worshipped together. What a wonderful way to grow up!

Our grandparents’ farm was a common meeting place for many of the cousins (16, counting my siblings and I) in our growing years. Nana and Papa were a great couple whose personality traits complemented each other. While Papa was calm, understanding, intentional in his words and actions – Nana was a whirlwind of energy, activities and didn’t hesitate to speak her mind to give direction to anyone within earshot. She was fun-loving and I remember her to willingly jump on a toboggan, drive early models of 4-wheelers (i.e., the Odyssey), or join us for a swim in a pool or lake. Occasionally, they would undertake various “cousin sleepovers” and groups of the cousins were invited with others of similar age, either to the farm or later, to the house in the bush.

Our experiences with Papa were altered somewhat in the late 60s when he suffered a stroke, leaving him paralyzed on one side and his speech was severely impacted. He remained the same tender gentleman after that, but his activity level was greatly diminished. Nana stepped up at that time, did the driving and cared for Papa until his passing in 1977, in his 75th year. She remained a busy, loving, going-concern until she passed at 96 years of age.

We are left with memories that make us smile, chuckle and reminisce of the good old days. I recall swimming at Caesarea, playing Flinch (a card game), shelling garden-fresh peas, celebrating Thanksgiving in the cauliflower field, building shelters in the bush, working to bring in hay, Monday night baseball in Uncle Dent’s front field, making maple syrup and spending countless hours of quality time in Nana’s kitchen, drinking kool-aid made in a Tupperware jug. It was in that kitchen where Nana first taught us how to have a “Love Feast”. You pass a small portion of food around the table and each person takes a share, passing it along until the food is all gone. We were there together – in good times and not so good, happy and sad. We were there to comfort and offer support for one another. That is family, to me.

While our lives as cousins have taken us across provinces to towns, cities, farms and the lakefront, we all have come from a strong, spiritual, loving foundation that I wouldn’t change for anything.

These memories are dedicated to the little blond fellow here and under that Christmas tree, sitting with me, at the top of the page. Born only 93 days apart, he and I were extremely close. “Danny and Janny”. He was taken to his heavenly home at the age of 17. We miss you greatly, dear cousin. Until we meet again…

Disclaimer: My memories are my own and true as I remember them. They may differ from the recollections of others. Cousins, if I missed anything that should be shared, please leave a note in the comments!