The Move

1987 Rob was a better dresser than 2016 Rob.

 Few events stand as life changing to me as much as our 1985 move from the gritty East End Hamilton neighbourhood to a relatively suburban Stoney Creek mountain one.  Growing up in the shadow of the steel plants shaped much of my character with its blue collar values, front porch sitting neighbours and the feeling that the whole community was looking out for you. The Move came at a time when our family was settling into its happiest time, yet it shook my life to the core.

As with any 12 year old, news that we were leaving all my friends and familiar landmarks behind was not greeted with enthusiasm. Who wants to leave their life and start over? Especially when you are like me and crave the simplicity and normalcy of routine. My best friend, Kevin, lived 4 houses away and we spent our free time on our bikes exploring the streets of the surrounding area. Adventure awaited every day and we felt safe no matter where we went. All that changed with a single move that led to some of my biggest triumphs and loves of my life, as well as some of my worst decisions.

We arrived in that semi detached house on Fuller Court soon after school finished and began to settle into our new lives. I had discovered a passion for hockey the previous few years and it was here that it blew up into a full blown obsession. The history, stories and numbers of the NHL gave me a foundation for stability and I grew attached to everything about the sport. I would spend hours in my room researching statistics and memorizing the players. With only 21 NHL teams, it was a simpler time and I immersed myself in everything hockey. Strapping on skates for the first time and taking to the net still remains a vivid memory and while my brief 5 year foray into actually playing hockey was filled with more defeat than victory, it stays with me as one of my happiest times. My talent never matched my heart but I soon found that those who cannot execute as a player drift towards coaching and that is where I found my calling, for a brief time at least. Our family became a Hockey one and we had a blast being part of that community for many years. This was my safe place, my refuge and these memories will always be close to my heart.

Old School Goalie!

My parents tried to ease the transition from our old neighbourhood, often bringing Kevin to stay overnight. But as any kid will tell you, when you are removed from the daily routine of hanging out, there comes a distance that cannot be filled. Not being part of the pulse of the old neighbourhood means you lose touch with the shared experiences. Drifting, I began to cut myself off from the world and live more inside my own head. I had a fantastic ability to create vivid imaginary worlds and inhibit them. With my love of books, I was never at a loss for material. The school year loomed and while I was in love with learning, the thought of being the new kid terrified me. This was a long time before any sort of anti bullying campaign and I knew what happened to the new kids. The larger problem occurred when it came to the actual school work. Several false starts and miscommunications about what I was actually supposed to be accelerated in led to a wasted few months and despite my best efforts, I started to struggle and that was new to me. I had been part of an advanced curriculum at my old school and remained so at my new one, but something had shifted in the transition. My grades remained high and my expectations hadn't changed, but the thrill of getting an A+ started to fade a bit.

I found out years later that my parents had discussed letting me return to the old neighbourhood to live with my grandparents because my depression was so deep. My struggles felt so huge and I was unsure what to do. I still get that feeling of sadness in my chest when I think of how lonely I was. But, as with most things when you're young, life changed. I met a kid from the next court over and slowly made friends at school. It was in trying to fit in that I first used humour, especially the self deprecating kind, to make myself part of the majority and it was then that I began a sideways drift towards what would be a lifelong battle with my self image. But in the meantime, I was finally happy. Our family was becoming part of the new community, especially at the arena, and life was once again appearing normal.

That time we met Gordie Howe!

The last two years of grade school present no real stand out memories. I functioned well as part of the leadership group in class and I remember mostly joyful experiences. We played road hockey, explored the ever expanding growth in our area and enjoyed many happy family times. But part of me never felt wholly present living there and despite everyone's best efforts, I yearned for a past that didn't exist anymore. Graduating from Grade 8, I tried and won a scholarship to a prestigious private high school in Hamilton and rather than continue with the friends I had made in the last two years, I decided to once again be the new kid. Looking back, I have no doubt that I was engaging in what has become a real theme of my life, Starting over. The feeling that if I just change everything about my circumstances, my life would be better. I lasted a year in that school before transferring to the local public high school because I couldn't fit in with the wealthy crowd that ran Hillfield. It was becoming obvious that I had no idea what I was doing and my grades began to drop. I started seeing school as an interference in my life rather than a help and even starting skipping class. My social network started anew, but with less than the best kind of results. No one knew what to do and while many tried to help, I was no longer listening. A theme that will present itself again in my life, many times, with the same results.

It's been almost 30 years since these events and most of reminiscing is of the happy kind, but that notion of changing everything and fresh starts remains. The next part of my life shaped the direction I would take for close to a quarter century. One decision took me off the path that most people, including me, thought I was on. One choice and I descended into over two decades of self medication and poor choices. It was a future wholly of my own volition and it started with The Party...but that tale is for another time.  

Growing Up Happy - Part 1

My Childhood

That hair!

My childhood was wholly unremearkable. Please don't try to misconstrue that in any way other than positive. I was lucky and privileged enough to be born in a time when one parent could stay home and manage the household on a single salary. My father worked at Stelco, the local steel mill, and my mother was the one who stayed with us, being on call for 4 kids whenever we needed her. Not wealthy, but decidedly middle class, we grew up never wanting for the basics and occasionally splurging on luxuries. Growing up in a large family and being the oldest meant I knew responsibility early and was always on the lookout for my brothers and sister.



So young and over 40 years later, still beautiful.

My earliest memories play around the edges of real or nostalgia. All day bike rides with our only connection to home being that it was our neighbourhood and the people who lived there looked out for one another. We had to be home for dinner, but lunch would often be some sandwiches and a precious can of pop tucked into your backpack. Out again as soon as the dishes were done, we would pause only when the streetlights came on and begrudgingly head home, with promises to meet up with our friends the next day.

Pictures were a luxury, as you had no idea if they turned out and getting the film produced cost money that would be better spent on groceries or the ever growing kids in our family. Yet we have album after album of smiling faces, family events and road trips that brought so much joy to our lives. We may have thousands of pictures on our computers now, but none of them compare to those dusty photos of 4 kids and their parents having fun. Smiling faces and happy eyes make me see just how much my parents gave us.

That time we met Gordie Howe!

Summer meant vacation and for my mom, that meant no rest from the demands of 4 busy kids. She always kept us moving, taking us on day trips, making sure we ate and engaging our obsessions, which would change from day to day as we found new and exciting things happening in the world. Our house was often the focal point for all of our friends as its joyful demeanour was a respite from their own chaotic lives. The pool was always full and one of the first outdoor responsibilities that we learned after gardening was if you wanted to have your friends over, you had to vacuum the pool. It prepared me for the many parties I would host over the decades. Always make the house ready and you can enjoy your time with friends. No one was ever turned away from that house on Glassco, the door swung open at all hours and even though I was a kid, I knew my parents were constantly helping those who needed it.

Still cute together and always up for an adventure

Occasionally and with great anticipation, we would go away for a vacation. I can't even begin to imagine the logistics of packing 4 kids, sometimes a dog and all their perceived needs into a car and either going camping or in later years to my Aunt Jennette's cottage in Wasaga Beach. These trips were extra special because it meant that Dad didn't have to work and we could spend some time with him away from the stress of his job. Like most kids whose mother stayed home and father worked, I didn't understand how hard they both worked and it is only with the wisdom of age that I see what they did. A vacation for us kids meant beaches, swimming and other sunny adventures. For my mom, it meant taking care of the 5 of us in another place with more dirt and less amenities. But we never knew or felt that. She always smiled and made sure we were taken care of first. I don't think she ate a hot meal for most of our trips and always put our enjoyment first. It was selfless then and I can't help but marvel at how we never knew she was working so hard to make our lives so much fun. 

Dad always manned the BBQ and of course the Pie - Irons (essentially a cast iron sandwich maker that you use in the hot coals of the fire). Perhaps a beer in hand, he loved to grill up whatever mom had brought and if you were lucky, he'd let you have a little taste of what was cooking. I know now how hard he worked to provide us with everything we needed and the skills he taught me have made me the man I am today. While I inherited his quick temper, I also heeded his wisdom on how to contain it. We were always the focus of his attention, the jokes, stories and he was an involved presence at everything we did. Being a father in the late 70's and early 80's was far different than it is now and his very attentive and sympathetic way of listening and offering advice was years ahead of its time.Our later conflicts brought on more by our similarities than our differences, but the bond forged in my childhood never let me doubt his love.

The boys are forever best friends.
We may not see each other often, but the love is always there.

 All of these memories come from that warm place inside my heart. I can feel the love I was given and the safe embrace of home still resonates today. The things we did as a family and the happiness it created are what saved me when I was at my lowest years later. I always joke that any mistakes I made in life are no ones fault but my own because I had such an easy going childhood and a set of parents who supported me even when I didn't deserve it. All of this happened in a simple house, on a suburban street with two people who gave everything they had to make sure their kids grew up with a sense of family and joy at being part of something bigger than yourself.

Thank you Mom and Dad for always making us your priority, then and now.

 Your dedication to your family is a big part of why I smile when I think back to those days on Glassco and the glory of my youth.

 

The family has grown and the love has multiplied.