Doug and Edith (1)

Introduction

By the time I finished reading the first few paragraphs of RORY & ITA, a book by Roddy Doyle about his parents, I was thinking of my own parents. Truth be told, I was thinking about my parents three seconds after buying the book for $3 at a 'used books' table outside the Central Library recently. I felt they would have been proud of me for getting such a good deal.

My parents have both passed away, but if they are together again in another sphere I'm sure my mother Edith (a former writer, librarian and book lover) likely turned to my father Douglas (a former writer, labourer and birdhouse builder) and said, "Look at that. Gordon's 64 and buying books like never before. What's changed, I wonder?"

"He sells a lot of birdhouses, Edith," my dad likely said. "He can afford them now."

"And he does love to read," Edith would say, seeking the last word. (Hopefully Dad nodded and gave it to her.)

Putting One Over on my Mother

By the time I read three chapters my mother and fathers' lives seemed intertwined with Rory and Itas'. Some of Ita's memories reminded me of something my mother said or did and Rory's memories of sparked thoughts about my father. Really. I'm thirty pages in and have my money's worth.

On page 31 I read about one of Ita's neighbours, Mrs. Silverman, who sent her son Sammy outside to buy fruit from a passing vendor. When the pound of plums was brought inside Mrs. Silverman weighed them herself and found them a tad light, so she ran outdoors and confronted the man who'd sold them. But he just kept going and shouted at her, "Weigh Sammy."

I tried to sneak one over on my mother at least a million times. My success rate was low, especially when it came to swiping food from the fridge. She kept extras to a bare minimum and doled them out, e.g., cookies, ice cream, under a watchful eye. By doing so she likely squelched the start of World War 3, or at the very least many an argument amongst her five children.

But she couldn't be everywhere at once, especially while working or shopping for groceries on a regular basis. So, when the house was empty upon my arrival home from school I'd run to the fridge or cupboards for a treat (e.g., a triple-decker brown sugar and honey sandwich with extra butter), then run out back, hide behind the wide trunk of a tall maple tree and eat while watching the street for mother's return. When I saw her coming I'd watch my angles: I'd slowly move around the trunk of the tree as she approached the house and when she entered the front door I would sneak into the side or front yard, eating faster all the way. However, knowing her sharp eye and desire to stretch out the food supply, I'm certain I never totally fooled her, and heard many warnings to 'go easy' on the butter and to drink a glass of water if I was really hungry.

I bet she wanted to weigh all five of her children when food went missing but she never did so (we couldn't afford a scale).

["Doug and Edith, wedding day, February 6, 1947"]

Photos by GH  

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Please click here to read when I'm 64