Recollections

August 01/15

Today's musical recommendation is "White Washed Walls" by Yes Nice.

As usual the credit goes to my son as he played it for me in the car on the way to soccer last week and it's stuck with me so much I downloaded it.  They are a nice Canadian Indie worth a listen.


So last night as I was laying bed falling asleep I had a brief memory flash on Mrs. McCartney and it made me smile and almost cry at the same time.  Mrs. McCartney was my first real babysitter and in more ways than one a surrogate grandmother when I was but a wee kid.

I don't know how she came into my mothers life but I do know she was a life saver at a time my mom really needed one as she was a single mother in the sixties when being called such wasn't as nearly accepted as it is today.

As I lay there I remembered in finite detail layout of her house and the hours I spent in the parlour, what we'd call the living room today I guess, playing with my Lego and Hot Wheels while waiting for my mom to get off work and come get me, the nights I slept over when I mom had classes at night that meant she wouldn't be able to come get me till almost 11pm.  I remember soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

But most of all I remember being loved as if I was her own grandson, how she made me feel protected, and always reminded me how much my mom loved me and that it was that love that meant she wasn't always home as she strove to improve herself and thus our options in life.

I think my first real push to get a college degree came from Mrs. McCartney as she saw something in me that others would not see for years and years. I remember sitting with her on the big couch watching "Gun Smoke" one time and she turned to look at me with a smile and told me "Never accept no, strive to be the person you want to be, and know that I'll always watch over you no matter what".

The funny thing is I don't think I ever heard her first name and to this day swear I never heard my mother call her anything other than Mrs. McCartney when she spoke to her or about her. I knew her husbands name, Joe, and remember visiting him at work on some Saturday's when we'd take him his lunch. He worked at a hospital down in the laundry making sure the sheets, towels, and oh so lovely hospital gowns were freshly cleaned. It was a load and busy place and he told me both he and Mrs. McCartney wanted more for me, another reminder to do well in school when I wasn't even old enough to be in school yet.

When I was in the spring of my kindergarten year I remember Joe coming to see us and wondering why Mrs. McCartney hadn't come into the apartment and looking past him for her, him kneeling down to hug me with tears in his eyes and telling me how she had gone to stay with the angels, and me throwing myself into his arms wailing with tears about how unfair it was.  My mom came over and hugged us both and told me she was needed in heaven more and that I needed to be brave and remember the wonderful times I had with her.

I remember the following Saturday my mom dressing me up and taking me to the service and how lost I felt without Mrs. McCartney there to guide me. The service went by in a blur and then we were at the cemetery and I stood there and let the tears flow as I said my goodbyes to one of the most wonderful people I've ever known in my life. Joe stood next to me and I heard him fight back a sob of his own I reached over and held his hand and we just looked at each other knowing our lives would never be the same again.

Joe passed away within a year and as I think back about him I know his will to live was empty without our beloved Mrs. McCartney there to guide us and all he wanted to do was join her in heaven.

I found out years later when I was in high school that Mrs. McCartney had a very bad heart and had been told to rest and take it easy but she had told her doctors that wasn't possible for she was helping a nice young woman get back on her feet and responsible for the care of a wonderful little boy who had a bright future ahead of him.

I've thought of Mrs. McCartney and Joe often over the years and know that both have watched me go through the trials and tribulations of becoming the person I am today, hopeful that as they looked down I was able to make them smile more times than I made them frown.

As I wrote this blog tonight I cried hard, a lot of it for reasons other than thinking of Mrs. McCartney, but as usual she was there to help me let some emotions out by popping a recollection into my mind when I needed it most and being there to help me once again.

Thank you Mrs. McCartney and I love you just as much today as that little boy on the couch did oh so many years ago.