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| Author Donna Morrissey |
Reading in The Fortunate Brother about the profound grief of the fictional Now
family of outport Newfoundland over the death of their 23 year old son, Chris,
in an oil field in distant Alberta has
made me reflect on grieving in small town Canada. I doubt it is different in
the other small towns of the world.
In small town Canada no one grieves alone.
Whether wanted or not grief is a communal event. The descriptions of community
grief in The Fortunate Brother felt
real to me. The outport village of Hampden on the coast of Newfoundland
reminded me of the real life farming hamlet of Meskanaw in Saskatchewan where I
grew up.
Support in times of trouble is not limited to
death. In The Fortunate Brother,
Addie Now, mother to Kyle, Chris and Sylvie and wife of Sylvanus, is diagnosed
with breast cancer and faces a double mastectomy to be followed by radiation
and chemotherapy.
Within the family Kyle runs into the night
upon hearing the news. He can neither comfort nor be comforted. Knowing his
mother needs him he returns to offer support. It is Kyle that Addie chooses to
take her to the hospital rather than Sylvanus.
Addie, having seen Sylvanus retreat into
drunkenness over the death of Chris, will no longer abide Sylvanus and Kyle
escaping from reality. She sobers them both by insisting they stop drinking or
she will refuse the long and difficult and uncertain treatment. She will live
for them if they will live for her.
Within a day, the whole community knows of
Addie’s cancer. You would expect close family and friends to express their
support. Certainly, the women she knows would be with her yet support is not
limited to her peers in a small town.
Young men, in their awkward crude speech,
sympathize with Kyle about his mother. They care about her. All share his
sorrow for it is also their sorrow. Each young man knows Addie well and hurts
for her.
Kyle resents the lack of privacy that comes
with such community involvement in lives. He wants the anonymity of a big city.
Kyle may turn away from that community
support but I valued and appreciated how Meskanaw supported families.
In Cool Water, author Dianne Warren set out in a wonderful work of fiction the
strong connections between farm families in rural Saskatchewan. In my review, a
letter to the young man who gave me the book, I wrote about those relationships:
The
book depicted the loneliness of living on a farm with the nearest neighbour a
half mile or more away. At the same time Cool Water set out how close you become to neighbours when
they are few in number. The bonds with my farm neighbours when I was growing up
were stronger than I have experienced living in town.
In reading about the reaction to Addie’s
diagnosis I thought back to my life on the farm. My mother was a nurse who
preferred working nights. Forty years ago she was retired when the young
daughter of one of our farm neighbours was diagnosed with cancer. Treatment was
unsuccessful and Debbie’s condition became terminal.
Debbie was in the large university hospital
almost 160 km from Meskanaw. Debbie’s mother was with her in Saskatoon. Her Dad
was back and forth for he had to keep the farm going and take care of their two
other daughters.
As the end neared my Mom went to the city and
stayed with Debbie during the nights. She wanted Debbie’s parents not to get
exhausted and she wanted Debbie not to be alone should she awake in the night.
Over the years I have spoken at funerals
about those bonds between neighbours at Meskanaw. I always knew I could count
on my neighbours.
What an excellent, thoughtful post, Bill. I'd say that you're probably right that small towns and communities everywhere are like that. I know that all of those that I've lived in are. People do look after each other in such places, and you are lucky have had that experience.
ReplyDeleteMargot: Thanks for the comment. I believe most people who grew up in small communities are proud to say where they came from when they talk about their home towns.
DeleteVery interesting, Bill. Often in crime fiction we see the bad side of small communities, and it is good to read about the support that they provide.
ReplyDeleteTracyK: Thanks for the comment. Morrissey does not gloss over the issues, sometimes petty, between the residents of Hampden but she sets out the ties between them.
DeleteThat's a lovely positive post about what could be sad matters, Bill. Communities are important (and possible)in bigger places too: I have always lived in big cities and large towns, but am glad to say have always tapped into a deep sense of community, partly through churches.
ReplyDeleteFor example, if a family is hit by illness or bereavement, a group of us will make a rota to cook for them, and we will also offer lifts and childcare if necessary. I am lucky enough not to have been on the other side of this, but (especially when my children were younger) it was reassuring to know that if anything had happened we would have had instant support from my friends. And of course with enough of us taking part, it is not a huge burden to do your bit.
Moira: Thanks for the comment. Having lived my life, except for university on the farm on in a small (6,000) community, I had little knowledge of the connections in larger centres through neighbourhoods including churches. I am glad to hear of the local community support. I have found sharing grief brings communities together. Your experience supports my belief.
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