childhood memories.

I was a ten year old kid living with a wonderful, loving, and talented Dad who was full of energy and full of laughs.  but also filled with a HUGE heart and an even bigger soul.  My Mom was amazing too but she was overshadowed by my Dad’s gift.  and a gift he was.  for he lifted up the spirits of anyone who came in contact with him.  My Mom had skills.  My Mom was talented.  My Mom was beautiful.  But my Dad had something rare.  something special.  My brother was great too.  He was seven back in 1978.  he was a kid who was always dirty.  always playing.  always having fun.  we both had lots and lots of friends.  we both played all kinds of sports and we were both good in all of those sports.  we were a close knit family filled with love and laughs and we also had our Nana living with us as well.  she was my Dad’s Mom.  she was our babysitter as both my Mom and Dad worked.  my Dad a talented architect and my Mom a very talented ad executive.  both immigrants from England.  leaving the known for the unknown but both flourishing at such young ages and now with two young kids who were beginning to flourish.  great times.  great family.  great friends.  there wasn’t anyone who disliked my Dad.  he had friends from all walks of life.  he also coached youth soccer in Don Mills before we moved to Unionville and was my coach for a few years before coaching my brother’s team.  he had help from his great friend Tommy Moulsdale as well as Keith Mingham.  My Dad also started the Unionville Soccer Club with his great friend Johnny Dermastja.  the club is still going strong today.  My Dad was an amazing man.  Our family was fun.  filled with love.  my brother and I shared the same room even though there was a spare bedroom.  not sure why but we did.  I liked it though as we had lots of talks after lots of fights but fun fights.  pillow fights.  healthy competition.  we both always woke up in the middle of the night and crawled into my Mom and Dad’s King Size bed.  we did this every night since we moved to Unionville when I was seven and Dom was four.  but my parents didn’t mind.  I think they actually liked it.  maybe they didn’t but they never made us feel like they didn’t.  I remember lots of cuddles.  tight knit cuddles.  lots of jokes.  lots of fun.  lots of road hockey with my Dad and my brother.  lots of parties.  lots of friends.  lots of late nights with lots of great friends.  what an amazing time for everyone!!!!!!!!  LOVE.  FRIENDS.  FAMILY.  HUMAN BEINGS FILLED WITH BIG HEARTS AND BIG SMILES.  HUMAN BEINGS WITH YOUNG KIDS.  YOUNG KIDS WITH BIG HEARTS AND BIG SMILES.  YOUTH.
February 17, 1978.   cold.  dark.  snowing.  my Mom and Dad getting ready for work.  Dom and I getting ready for school.  Nana no longer with us as she was fighting Diabetes and was hospitalized.  she went from a plump but vibrant woman who loved everyone to an old, skinny shell of herself.  she walked with a cane and she became angry.  bitter.  sad.  lonely.
Dom’s soccer team had an indoor soccer practice later that night.  7pm to be precise.  It was at Cassandra Public School.  But Dom had a birthday party to go to so he wasn’t going to make it.  I helped my Dad coach as I just loved being around him but, because my brother wasn’t going to go, my Dad wasn’t going to come all the way to Unionville to pick me up to then head all the way back down to the school for practice.  he normally did this which is just another example of how great a man he was. 
“Please Dad?  Can you come and get me?  Please?  Please?  I want to go!!!”
I wanted so badly to be there.  I loved being around him.  around his energy.  around his laughter.  around his love.
“Sorry Chris.  Not tonight.  I will see you later though. Don’t worry there will be many more practices.”  My Dad responded with his mischievous laugh.
He gave me a huge hug and I held on tight.  I didn’t want to let go.  He gave me a kiss and said, “Bye Chris.  Love you.”
Dom and I then kissed our Mom and we walked out to the bus stop together.  We threw a few snowballs at each other as we walked to the corner of Village Parkway and Carlton to wait for the bus to arrive.
as we waited my Dad’s ugly brown station wagon approached the stop sign and stopped.  he pressed a button that lowered the window and waved to the both of us.  he had a huge smile on his face.  a smile always filled with love.  we waved back and he drove on.  the bus arrived shortly after that and Dom and I got on.
the school day was uneventful.  or maybe it was eventful but I find it hard to remember anything about school that day.
I am sure my Dad’s day at work was filled with fun.  laughter.  jokes.  work.  skill.  love.  he lit up every room he entered.
I am also sure that my Mom had a great day at her work.  I know that she had to play second fiddle to my Dad on many occasions and I am sure that bothered her but she rarely showed her frustration to us.  My Mom didn’t have an easy life as I have found out over the years.  not many do.  But I still love her with all of my heart even though I have not made it easy on her.
School ended for Dom and I.
Work ended for my Mom.
Work ended for my Dad.
Dom went off to his friends birthday party.
I came home and played road hockey with my friends.
My Mom came home.
My Dad drove over to Cassandra Public School to coach his soccer team.
it was cold.  It was dark.
I played road hockey until my brother came home from his birthday party.  I am not sure how he made it home because I don’t think my Mom had a driver’s licence back then.  I also don’t know how we managed to get Pizza Subs from Mr. Subs.  There are many things that I don’t remember from my youth.  But I remember Friday night.  Friday February 17, 1978.  Dom and I finished eating our subs and went upstairs to play in our room.  we were in the middle of a big pillow fight when my Mom frantically opened our bedroom door and said, “get changed.  we need to bring you to the Vine’s house.  there’s been an accident.”
Mr. Mingham was with my Mom and they both looked terrified.  Frantic.
“Accident?”  I said.
“Yeah your Dad has had an accident we have to go the hospital.”  Mr. Mingham responded.
“Is it a broken leg?”  I nervously asked.
“Yes, something like that.”  he nervously replied.
My Mom and Keith helped us pack our bags and we were quickly whisked off to the Vine’s house.
Gerry Vine was home and he let us in but he looked nervous as well as he spoke with Keith and my Mom.  everyone looked nervous.  everyone looked scared.  My Mom left with Keith but forgot to hug us.  I watched as Keith’s green hatchback sped away.  silent.  alone.  Dom and I with Gerry.  Gerry’s wife, Nora,  and their kids, Tammy and Steve,  not around.
Dom and I went downstairs to play ball hockey.  Gerry sat silently upstairs.
Ball hockey wasn’t as fun as it normally was as my racing mind was worried.  scared.
a few hours later I heard the phone ring and secretly snuck upstairs to see if I could hear Gerry’s conversation.  I quietly opened the basement door and listened.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo”.
That is what I heard Gerry say.  “Noooooooooooooooooooooo.”
I then walked upstairs as Gerry quietly hung up the phone.
“Did you hear anything about my Dad yet?”  I asked Gerry.
“No.  Nothing yet.”  he replied with a very clear look of shock on his face.
I was confused.  lost.  lonely.  I went back downstairs to continue to play ball hockey with Dom and then Dom and I went to bed.
I don’t remember seeing Nora.  I don’t remember seeing their kids.  I just remember laying in the Queen size bed with Dom.  two brothers side by side.  lights off.  wondering where my Mom was.  wondering if my Dad was okay.  not really grasping the full scope of just what exactly was happening.  I tossed and turned for awhile and then heard Staying Alive by the Bee Gees playing on the radio.  I looked over at Dom and he was peacefully asleep.  too young to really know what was happening.  I put my head beside his and cuddled him tightly.  I closed my eyes but I couldn’t close my brain.  I tossed and turned all night and then morning arrived.  Nora was now home and woke us up.  She told us to get our stuff together as she was going to bring us to our Auntie Marions’ and Uncle Mac’s house.
“Is my Dad okay?”  I asked.
“We still haven’t heard anything.”  she replied.
I was worried.  scared.  confused.  sad.
Dom and I got all of our stuff together and then ate breakfast.  Toasted Western sandwiches.  Not sure how I remember that but I do.
we then played a little more ball hockey downstairs before leaving to go to my Aunt and Uncle’s house.
Nora drove us in her Silver Mustang.  Dom and I in the back seat.  the ride was eerily quiet.  Nora usually spoke a lot.  A passionate woman filled with strong opinions and an even stronger heart.  she was always a good match for my Dad.  they would both argue passionately about politics and current events and the debates were heated.  but they always ended with hugs and kisses.  big smiles.  lots of wine.  lots of love.  this is what life is all about.  love.  respect.  fun.  discussions.  learning.  and more loving.
we soon arrived at the corner house just off of Village Parkway and Nora let us out the passenger side of her car.  all three of us walked slowly up to the front door.  she rang the doorbell and my Aunt quickly opened the door.  tears streaming down her face.  she looked at both Dom and I and said, “I’m sorry Chris.  I’m sorry Dom.  You’re Dad didn’t make it.”  She hugged us tightly but I quickly pushed her aside and ran to my Mom who was sitting on the blue reclining chair.  she was filled with tears and sorrow.  I wrapped my arms around her as tightly as I could and screamed, “WHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYY???  WHERE’S DAD?????  WHERE’S DAD?????”
My eyes were closed and filled with water.  but I could hear sniffles.  I could hear screams.  I could hear “I’m sorry’s”.  I could hear silence too.
then I opened my eyes and saw fear and pain in my Mom’s eyes.  extreme fear.  extreme pain.  sadness that I have never seen since.  a never forgotten image that still haunts me today.
I saw a room filled with sad people.  loving people.  loving family.  caring family.  Dom?  where was he?  was he okay?  did he truly understand what had just happened?  did I truly understand what had just happened?
and what did happen to my Dad?
he suddenly collapsed while coaching seven year old boys soccer.  he collapsed to the ground.  everyone thought he was joking.  but when Tommy went to turn him over he quickly realized that he was dying.  a brain hemorrhage.  a sudden brain hemorrhage.  a sudden death.  everything sudden.  a once loving family filled with laughter and joy was now turned into a family filled with loss and pain.  thirty six years old.  GONE.  WHY?  WHY? WHY?  PLEASE CAN SOMEONE HELP ME AND TELL ME WHY?????????
Life not fair.
Dad I miss you sooooooo much.
Life not fair.
February 17, 1978.  Bernard Wavell McKenna suddenly passed away at the age of 36 leaving behind a loving wife Mairi, 40 years old and two beautiful sons Christie, 10 years old and Dominic, 7 years old.  He is also survived by his Mother, Mary, 71 years old.
My Dad had a viewing of his body so all of his friends and family could see him just one last time but I know that what they saw was NOT my Dad.  My Dad was all heart and all soul.  and without that…what was he?  what is anybody?
the funeral was about a week later and the church was packed with friends and family but also my whole grade school was there.  JOHN XXIII.  I will never forget the love that they showed us all.  I will never forget.  nor do I think they will ever forget.  my Dad touched so many people in so many different ways that it is so difficult to imagine that he has been gone for forty years.
sad.
lonely.
lost.
we buried him underground shortly after that.  screams continued.  tears continued.  everything continued except my Dad’s beating heart.  beautiful soul.
Holy Cross Cemetary.
gone.
one month after that my Nana passed away.  my Dad’s Mom.  her strength disappearing after the death of her youngest son.  they had a special bond.  a bond that was now gone.  forgotten.
two deaths in two months.  two funerals.  two major losses.  ten years old.  my brother seven.
what was next?
I was now waiting for what was next.
the “next” came soon after that.
one month after my Nana’s death,  my brother and I came home after school to find an ambulance in our driveway.  we rushed in to see my Mom being taken away by the paramedics.  her good friend, Annie, by her side.  she was unconscious.  her eyes closed.  I was stunned.  chaos.  noise.
“MOM????????  MOM?????  WHAT’S WRONG WITH MY MOM????????”  I screamed as the paramedics quickly rushed past Dom and I.
everything went silent.
everything slowed down.
confused.
lost once again.
help?
if there is a god please help my Mom.
don’t die Mom.
please don’t die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dom and I taken away once again.
this time we ended up at the Dermastja’s house.
this time no ball hockey.
this time no Bee Gees.
this time no idea what to think.
this time no idea what to do.
STUCK.
STUCK.
STUCK.
a phone call came two hours later and my Mom was alive.  not well but alive.
she had an overdose of tranquillizers and collapsed.  almost dead but the amazing work of our amazing paramedics saved her life.  saved mine too.  saved Dom’s too.
my Mom was taken away from us for a month to get better.  to get healthier.  to get the help she so desperately needed.
I was alone.
Dom was alone.
Mom was alone.
we were all alone.
a family once filled with so much love and so much laughter was now filled with sorrow.  pain.  loneliness.  fear.  sadness.  loss.  lots of loss.  lots of pain.
family?
life?
love?
hope?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?
childhood memories.
childhood memories.
I always love childhood memories.
the end.

much gratitude to:
Nora and Gerry Vine.
Annie and Johnny Dermastja.
Auntie Marion and Uncle Mac.
Sue and Lee.
Michelle.
Nicole.
Mike.
Tommy and Val Moulsdale.
Keith Mingham.
Terry and Kathy.
George and Lucille.
Giorgio and Renata.
the whole McKenna family.
Auntie Eileen and Uncle John.

there are more people to thank and give gratitude to but this group were in the midst of the pain and sadness.  they were witness to the pain and suffering.  they all helped in their own way and I will forever hold them in high regard even when I forget to show it.
thank you forever.
love Christie.
xoxoxo