Thank You Mom for My Cape Breton Family

To celebrate Mother's day,
I took a wee trip up to Mabou, Cape Breton Island,
home of the Beaton clan,
my mom's people.  It was an
"in-between meals" trip, as my
brother Rick likes to say:  4 1/2 hours.

In 1809, my great-great- great grandfather,

Alexander Beaton, sailed from the Highlands of Scotland, 

and landed on Prince Edward Island.  After only a few years,

 he jumped on a boat with his brother Finlay,

and sailed (maybe even rowed) over to Cape Breton Island:

settling in the area called Finlay's Point or Mabou Mines.

His grandson, and my great-grandfather,

 Alexander Beaton married Catherine Cameron.

Catherine (Cameron) Beaton
Great Grandmother

Alexander Beaton
Great Grandfather

I first visited Cape Breton when I was

sixteen.  A lot has changed since then, eh?

Gertie Beaton (mom) Pati, Jon, Jude and Richard Prashaw (dad)

Claire Beaton, my

 first cousin once-removed

welcomed me into her convent
of the Congregation of Sisters of Notre Dame.

This "once-removed" bit is a
hierarchical technicality.
I don't feel removed at all from Claire,
except in distance:  I live in Virginia (not during the last two years)
and Claire lives in Mabou, with a small group
of amazing and gracious women.

Sisters Bertholde, Catherine and Claire

Sisters Bertholde, Catherine and Elanor

Sister Catherine

View of Mabou Harbour from my bedroom

  I barely kept up with
 a couple of septuagenarians, a few
octogenarians and one nonagenarian:  by day
two I needed a nap.  It's a good thing I only stayed with the sisters a couple of days:
homemade cinnamon buns, cookies and cakes,
and fresh, Cape Breton biscuits with
homemade marmalade.  How could I refuse?

Even though it was a school night, 

Bernard Cameron, my cousin, and his family,

Nancy, Maili and Alisdair, joined Claire,

Catherine, her sister (and Bernard's mom), and myself for dinner.

Bernard,Nancy,Sr. Claire, Maili, Catherine, and Alisdair
Camerons and Beatons
and Maggie (the dog)

Alisdair and Maili Cameron

Bernard teaches Gaelic and speaks Gaelic to

his children and also to Maggie, the dog. The 

children are fluent but it is apparent that the dog

 doesn't understand a word!

After a short, but oh so lovely visit with the clan,

I returned home to Blue Rocks, in time

to attend an Ashley MacIsaac concert

in Lunenburg.  This fabulous Cape Breton fiddler

packed the Zion Lutheran Church on a 

drizzly, Saturday evening.  With strings

shredding off his bow, Ashley fiddled,

and danced, and sang his way through

the evening.  True to Cape Breton style,

and with a slight lilt of the tongue,

he peppered his playing with hilarious stories.

All in all, a great way to celebrate

mother's day weekend.

On this mother's day,

I thank you, Gertie Beaton,

for giving me 

my Cape Breton roots.

And to Alec Beaton, my son:

 I love being your mom.

Mòran taing.  (MAW-run TAH-eeng) "Many thanks."

painting of Gertie Beaton

Alec Beaton and his mom, Jude Prashaw

sky over Cape Breton

  

Spring needs a GPS

Spring came and she left,
then she came again,
and left.
She's confused.
Just when I think Spring
needs a GPS to locate
Blue Rocks,
she shows up with
eye-blinking beauty:
today, at least.

 Spring may come and go but I think these two
are here to stay.

She's Called Nova Scotia

Rita MacNeil, singer, song writer,

daughter of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia,

was laid to rest in her hometown 

in Big Pond, Cape Breton this week.

"Upon my death, I want to be cremated immediately. 

My ashes to be place in my tearoom teapot – two if necessary.”

And so she was.

Rita MacNeil:

Cape Breton,

Nova Scotia,

Canada and the world says,

May you rest in peace.

Happy Birthday Alec

 Alec Beaton Connor,
today, and every day,
I celebrate you, my son,
my one and only.

You are kind, considerate,
loving, affectionate, smart,
 observant,wickedly funny,
determined and curious.

You are a joy to behold
and to hold.

I love sharing this life with you.
I love being your mom.
I love you more than you know.
 
Happy Birthday,
Mom (or, as you say, mum)

                                         

Beyond Bullying

Rehtaeh Parsons

Seventeen-year-old, Rehtaeh Parsons,

 was removed from life support this past Sunday.
Last week, this Nova Scotia teenager, hung herself.

Why would a lovely, seventeen-year-old young woman,

 end her life?

According to her mother, Leah Parsons,
when Rehtaeh was fifteen,
she was sexually assaulted by four boys,
at a home. Apparently, one of the boys
took a photo during the assault and posted
it on the internet. After the posting,
Rehtaeh was the target of online assault:
these actions go beyond bullying.

Why were the four, teenage boys not persecuted?
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police pursued
an investigation, but due to insufficient evidence,
no charges were laid.

"The justice system failed my daughter,"
Leah Parsons said in an interview.

People across Nova Scotia, 

and throughout Canada,
are asking, "Why?" 

 Why is it, that a young woman,
a victim of a sexual assault,

 becomes a victim of cyber assault?

Justice minister, Ross Landry,

 refused to review the initial investigation.

 Due to an outcry from people across the province,
he has reconsidered.

Nova Scotia, this lovely, Maritime province,
surrounded by the Atlantic, has the highest rate
of sexual assault per capita in Canada (Avalon, 2009).
Halifax, its capital, has the third highest rate
of sexual assault in Canada (Avalon, 2009).

How are we, the parents, teachers, politicians,
counselors, school administrators, 

 friends and citizens, 

failing our children?
Why is silence still the norm,
shame the secrecy?

How young is too young, 

to teach our children,

"No," means no?

What is consent? 

While many internet posts are crying out for revenge,
Rehtaeh's mother says she wants justice,
not retaliation.The cyber-activist group,
Anonymous, apparently was threatening to release
the names of the four boys.
At the request of Leah Parsons,
they backed away.
"I think they, (the boys), need to be accountable
for what that they did,"
Parsons said. "I don't want them
to be physically harmed."
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/nova-scotia/story/2013/04/10/ns-rehtaeh-suicide-reaction-todd.html

I hope Rehtaeh, you rest in peace.

I hope your story

 brings lasting change.

As a society,

 I hope we learn to say

"No:"  we will no longer

slip into silence;

we will no longer

allow shame to become

the new secrecy;

we will no longer

accept cyber assault, 

or violence against our children.

How young is too young,

to teach our children, 

"No," means no?

Teach your children now,

teach them well.

Welcome to Canada

Pier 21 in Halifax

With my brother Rick, visiting from Ottawa, 

we drove to Halifax and a visit to Pier 21,

where, after WWII,   "over one million immigrants

 and refugees  from Europe and elsewhere," landed.

This was their first glimpse of Canada, their new home.

Leaving their homeland to come to Canada

Our next door neighbour Erik, arrived here from Denmark when he

was ten-years old.  He, along with his mother and siblings, came
to re-unite with his dad.  You don't have to say too many "Hello's"
before you meet a Nova Scotian with connections to Pier 21.

 Many "war brides" with young children, arrived

in Halifax to meet their future husbands, soldiers they had met
overseas.

War Brides on board ship

They arrived tagged, wondering if they
would recognize their husbands,
wondering what their new life
would be like.


Before any immigrant could
land on the Canadian shore, a doctor would examine
them.
Imagine this---
 after travelling across
 a sometimes stormy ocean,
 after arriving in a land
where  perhaps they
 did not speak
the language,
after waiting for oh so long,
they would have to wait even longer,
to be examined by a complete stranger,
to have their papers processed,
their baggage examined.

 Many Canadians, not only on the East Coast,
 but throughout Canada, trace their history back to
Pier 21 as the point of entry for a new life,
far from the ravages of war.

Pier 21 was also the departure point for 496,000 Canadian
troops during World War Two.

ships ready to leave
 Bedford Basin in Halifax
during WWII

 

Our father, 

Richard Arnold Prashaw, 

was one of those troops.

At 27 years of age,
 dad  arrived in Halifax,
 a soldier with the Perth Regiment
from Southern Ontario, Canada.
Along with his regiment,
 he boarded the Reina del Pacifoco,
on October 5, 1941,
 heading to Liverpool,
England, leaving his fiance,
my mother, behind.

Reina del Pacifico

 Dad never talked to us about
the war. All we know is,
three days after the war ended,
his buddy, marching just a few
feet in front of him,
stepped on a land mine.
Shrapnel from the mine
pierced my dad's face,
near is left eye.  My dad lost
some of his hearing.  He also
lost his buddy.

I'm not sure why history,
especially of the wars,
seem to be following
me around.  Perhaps because
I live with two guys
who are fascinated about
the history of WWI and WWII,
or just history in general.

All I know is,
my father fought on the front lines
during WWII.  He received
a Mention in Dispatches for bravery
in the field.
PRASHAW, Richard Arnold, Private (A.106881) 
- Mention in Despatches - Infantry (Perth Regiment) - awarded as per Canada Gazette 
and CARO/6074, both dated 22 September 1945.
http://www.perthregiment.org/perthcitations.html
All I know is,
I am grateful that he came back,
that he married my mom.

 The rest is,  well, seven kids history.

Alec, Jude and Rick
Dutch Memorial at Pier 21 

Welcome, to a little piece of Canada.

Jeff, the wanna be and Alec

Sisters

The gift of this year?;
the gathering of the sisters,
Margie from London, Ontario
me from Blue Rocks, Nova
Scotia and Pati in California.
It was not a difficult decision for
Margie and I to leave snow laden Canada
and travel to Morro Bay, CA.

What do sisters do when they get
together, besides instantly talking
as if we are always together?
Movies....
We started our week attending
the San Luis Obispo International Film Festival.

We saw several excellent documentaries:

Bidder 70

Bidder 70, directed by Beth and George Gage,
 highlighted Tim DeChristopher,
a  college student who
"monkey-wrenched the out-going Bush
administration’s contentious oil and gas auction.

He bid $1.8 million to save 22,000 acres of Utah’s 

red rock wilderness with no intention to pay or drill. 

Now he’s paying for it with his future."  http://slofilmfest.festivalgenius.com/2013/films

Freida Mock's documentary G-Dog 

introduces us to Father Greg Boyle, a white Jesuit priest whose
belief that "nothing stops a bullet like a job" has transformed the lives

of countless gang members in East Los Angeles.  His creation of

Homeboy Industries has a "70% success rate at redirecting kids away
 from gang life" and has become an international model .

 "It provides tattoo removal, job training, counseling, yoga,
 fatherhood and substance abuse classes – all free."

If you want to watch an uplifting, thought provoking 

documentary on how one person with compassion and humour

 can make a difference, watch this film.

And from, Kinshasa, the capital of the Democratic

Republic of the Congo, a place of poverty  and chaos,

we learned how music transformed a community.

The Kinshasa Symphony documentary by

Claus Wishmann and Martin Baer is a " film is about the Congo,

 the people in Kinshasa and the power of music."

When the film ends with the Kinshasa Symphony

and Choir's performance of Beethoven's 9th,

the entire theater audience rose to their feet in a

standing ovation.

We ended the film festival by viewing the Independent

Canadian film Still,  by Canadian director Michael McGowan,

starring Geneviève Bujold and James Cromwell.

If you want to see a moving

portrayal of  love and aging performed

by two, seasoned and powerful actors,

go see this movie.  Samuel Goldwyn Films will distribute this

film under the title Still Mine in the U.S

Thank you Pati for our birthday gift passes

to this wonderful film festival.

Golf, the card version that is.

Margie, Mack and Pati

Mack, Pati's lovely son learned the card game Golf

from an ex-convict riding on a train.  

After a quick lesson from Mack, Margie, 

 known as the card shark

in the family, seemed to have great

difficulty learning the game, or so she said.

Margie wins again!

Mack quickly learned Canasta, the Prashaw go to card game
and immediately cleaned our clocks when he
teamed up with, you guessed it,  the pro Margie.
He also learned that, "when someone asks you to go out, do it!"

Mack, thank you for making my coffee every morning,
this is love!

Five dog Charades followed cards.

three of five dogs at Spa Pati's

Mack,  what exactly are you doing?

little word, a, the, eh?

Jewelry, always on a sister agenda...

Pati teaching us how to glue colourful
paper to the back of clear pendants

Frank and Pati
thank you Frank for the prolific and
 beautiful bouquets of flowers

Pati's 4 star spa will reach 5 stars when

Frank brings up his garage sale find

of a massage table, complete with the

inner masseuse!  

Daily walks on the doggie beach in Morro Bay

replenished our vitamin D.

It doesn't get any better!

Hot tub evenings.  No photos of the bathing beauties.

Thankfully the paparazzi weren't zooming into

Pati's backyard.

 Finally it was time
to say goodbye.  We
drove Margie down to
Santa Barbara where
she hooked up with Jerry,
her husband who probably
wondered if she was ever
going to leave the Sistahs.

And so, sisters,
I am grateful
to be in the middle of
two lovely, funny, kind, energetic
compassionate, interesting, creative
fabulous women.  

The Three Sisters!

grateful for this journey

Next year, March, California and my beautiful sisters.....