My Mama

My mom was born in 1935. The sixth child and the last of the three children that lived. All three were girls. Their mother was born in an immigrant Ukrainian family that had come to Canada at the turn of the century. My baba's dad came in 1901 and her mom and two brothers came in 1907. The settled in the Lethbridge are and guido supported the family by working in the mines. My baba was the 3 or 4th child born in this country as she was a twin. I don't know if she or her sister was older. Many more children would follow and my great baba would be the mother of 16 children that lived.

Baba was born in 1909. Just two years after her mom has arrived in this country. Life was very difficult. Especially with all those children. My great baba worried about her children and loved them. She wanted the best for them and when my baba was just 16 years old they arranged a marriage to another Ukrainian immigrant. He was good looking, had $150 in the bank and owned a house. Baba did not want to get married and she was so young. She did not like her chosen husband either. What her mom and dad did not know was that the charming husband to be was cruel. He was jealous, controlling, abusive, and an alcoholic. He beat my baba and her children all the time. He injured the back of my mama's eldest sister so she had troubles her entire life. Then one day he just disappeared.

My mama remembers then living in an apartment in a house in or near Lethbridge which was near the ice plant. She recalls being about 3 years old and running over to the ice plant in her bare feet with her sisters, to catch the ice that fell from the trucks and front loaders. She said they would suck on the ice like it was candy. Some pieces were so big and so cold that they had to wrap them in their t-shirts to hold them. It they got caught, they were punished, but the next time the ices was being loaded they ran back to get the ice.

The girls in the summer would get gunny sacks from their baba and walk across the prairie collecting dried cow patties for burning in the stoves in winter. They said it was hard work and hard to find the dried on. They would wander miles and the bag would get heavy as it filled.

My mama was a wonderful singer and every Saturday, her and sister would run to the radio station where mom would get picked to sing live on the radio. For doing so she would get a bag of porridge or cream of wheat. Mom said they would tear a hole in the corner to dip their fingers in and eat it on the way home. It was the dirty thirties after all. Poverty was all around and my mom and her sister were forever changed by that poverty.

Their mom would meet a man that had a house and a farm and they would get married. The problem was a little like like Prince Charles. You see grandpa loved someone else, but she was married. Grandma was second best and every chance he got he was with his first love. In a small town, everyone knows everything and people talked. People knew. My grandma was a proud woman and very beautiful. I think the talk must have broke her heart. I think her firs husband did as well as she could never please him. Something changed in my baba. She started to drink with her husband. She would go to parties, leaving the girls at home. Her and grandpa would bring the party home, and there would be late night drunken parties and fights. My mom would be woken up from her sleep and made to sing requests from the drunks. She would sit on their laps while she sang her beautiful songs and they would molest her. This went on for years.

While grandma and grandpa were gone and partying the girls took care of the farm. The animals, the house and if things were not done correctly, baba punished them very harshly. She was a cruel task masker. In later years baba told me that my mom was always bad. Right from the moment she came screaming out of her belly. Poor mama. She didn't stand a chance, did she?

What I see is a young girl, being raised by her older sister. A girl being molested while singing songs. I see a girl who wanted her mom to notice her, her mom to love her. She wanted her mom to be a mom.

Life was really hard for mom and her siblings. It was the end of the thirties and early forties. Many people were homeless, starving, and barely existing. It is the stuff that songs are made from and Woody Guthrie sang many songs about the era. My baba was forced to sell her mandolin which was a gift from her mama and had come from the old country. My own mama had a cow which was given to her as a calf, but it had to be butchered. They needed to eat. My mama never forgot and is angry still today over the loss of her "Joseph" who had blue eyes. She feels very bitter and says that had they not partied and drank, they wouldn't have had to take her cow. She loved that cow and sang to it all the time.

My mama told me she entered a singing contest in a neighboring town when she was about nine. She bought the certificate and ribbon home to show her mom who was proud at that moment, but then it was never mentioned again. Mom said that as far back as she could remember, she wanted to sing. She sang to flowers, to rocks, to trees, to her dolls, to the farm animals. She sang to the sun and moon and stars. "I only wanted to sing." A young girl with a dream that was ignored, smashed, and broken. In it's place was a broken, empty, and bitter being. Who broke my mama's dreams? My mama's heart?

My mom left her home when she was 16. By 19 she was married and there I was. A child born to parents who were both broken but good people. My dad was very musical and artistically gifted. He wanted to go to Art school more than anything in his life. His parents wouldn't let him and sent his brother to university for something more suitable. My mom only wanted to sing. Now she is married and has a child. Life is going down a different road.

She brings me to visit her mom one day. I am small and she is carrying me in her arms. She goes in baba's house and she hears yelling and screaming from baba's bedroom. She runs to the room and sees my grandpa pointing a rifle at baba's face. She is on the bed and he is straddling her and holding her down. All my mom sees is the gun at her mom's face. She leaves and runs as fast as she can to a neighbouring farm and begs them to come and help and to call the police.

When help arrives my baba and grandpa are having a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. They don't understand the fuss.

Gaslighting, something my mother did very well. It looks like she learned it from her parents.

 A form of intimidation or psychological abuse, sometimes called Ambient Abuse where false information is presented to the victim, making them doubt their own memory, perception and quite often, their sanity. The classic example of gaslighting is to switch something around on someone that you know they're sure to notice, but then deny knowing anything about it, and to explain that they "must be imagining things"when they challenge these changes.

 They blame my mom for lying, having a vivid imagination. When they left, baba got up and walked over to my mama who must be so confused, hurt, and wounded because she loved her mom. Anyway, Grandma walks over to my mom, who is still holding me, and almost spits in her face while saying with venom "Don't you EVER tell ANYONE what goes on in this HOUSE!" With this proclamation, my baba punches my mother and punches her in the face. She broke her nose and gave her a black eye. I can't imagine a mother punching a daughter, let alone a daughter who is holding a child, and a daughter who loved her mother and just tried to save her life.

This was her life, and it became my life. Broken can only create broken. I weep for the girl my mom was. The girl who sang to nature. The girl with a song in her heart. She must have been happy. One day it was punched out of her and there was no going back.


The Bible warns us about provoking our children to anger. I believe there is a reason for it for I saw my grandmother's, my mother's, my mother's siblings, my siblings, and my own children's anger. But I also believe that God forgives us, and can and will heal our wounds.

Ephesians 6:4English Standard Version (ESV)

4 Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.


And then we need to forgive. If we don't forgive the anger festers like a wonder until the pressure builds up and it explodes over innocent people. Forgive them so you have no desire to hurt them like you were. Forgive them so in your anger you don't hurt others. Forgive them, so you can shine love for the world and give the broken hope. Love the unlovable. The world has made them so and a kindness can change their world.


Romans 12:17-19
17 Do not repay any one evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody.
18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.
19 Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord.