When we arrived in Campbell River and got set up for school, my sister would be in grade two. I had not passed grade one the first time around in Vancouver. The first 2 months of Kindergarten, I would say goodbye to mom and then hide under our p0rch, mom never found out till the school came to see why I only came on one occasion. I had to finish the rest of the year. I studdered quite badly, and teachers seem to dislike that. My grade one teacher hated me for this. She would sit me in a corner during class time with my back to the other students. It sucked having to start grade one again.
Every weekday, my sister and I would walk across town to reach Elm School. I had not yet learned to tell time, so every time my sister and I walked past the old post office, she would use the big wall clock to teach me. Thanks to her, I finally got it.
Although she was my twin, my sister Patsy was at least a foot taller and far smarter than me. I had been sickly for most of my life due to my birth issues. I was still pretty frail in those days, so she looked after me like an older sister would. We fought as siblings do, but I loved my sister deeply. There was this connection between us, more so with her; she would always know what I was up to.
Later in our lives, my sister was married to Bruce Stad, a military man, and in 1979, they were living in Beausejour, Manitoba, which was a radar base in the NORAD defence system. One winter, I was visiting a buddy in Edmonton, and on the spur of the moment, I decided to travel to the base to surprise my sister. I planned on going by train to Winnipeg and then hitchhiking up to Beausejour. My sister had had another child since I last saw her. His name was Cory Eddy Stad. I was very much looking forward to meeting my new nephew.
When the train reached the station, and I was disembarking, my brother-in-law was waiting for me. I asked him why he was there, and he said that my sister told him I was on the train. I had told no one, and my friend in Alberta did not know my sister.” She did this all the time.
I have many fond memories of my sister Patsy. One of my favourites is watching her roller-skating in our local parades. She was a member of the Campbell River rolling skate club and would be out in front with several other young ladies, on their skates, twirling their batons, tossing them high into the air and catching them again. All the while spinning around, followed by a marching band and the rest of the parade. She was incredible. I was so proud of her.
When my sister was due to give birth to her first child, her husband, Bruce, was up north working on a section of the Dempsey highway on a military project and could not be there for the birth. My sister asked me to come and stay with her on the base so I could get her to the hospital when the time came. They were stationed in C.F.P. Chilliwack. I had not seen my sister for several years, and the thought of hanging out with her for a few weeks was pretty exciting.
When the day came, I was marching back and forth outside the OR, worried almost to death over the whole ordeal. When the doctor came out and said it was a healthy girl child, I was so thrilled that I must have been smiling like a cat chewing a bumblebee. The doctor broke out laughing at the look on my face. He allowed a few minutes to see my sister and meet my new niece. My sister asked me to name her. As I had just finished a book about Princess Natasha of Russia, I got to welcome my niece Natasha into the world. She was born in the same hospital as my sister and me.
My sister is no longer with us; she was in a car accident on June 10th, 1988. Patsy and her husband, Bruce, had separated, and she had been hanging out on Denman Island with some friends. They were all drinking, and during the night, they put the truck in the ditch. While they were pushing it out, my sister fell forward just as the truck rolled back, trapping her underwater, where she drowned. I still have nightmares about this. I woke up in turmoil the day after her death, not able to get my shit together. I had no idea what was going on. Then I got a phone call from the police, telling me of my sister’s death the night before. I cried for days, and still do sometimes, when I am alone, and thoughts of my sister float to the surface of my mind. When I walk in the forest, I can sense my sister all around me.
My niece Natasha recently passed away from a brain hemorrhage. I struggle with this, as we were very close and talked weekly on the phone. I loved her very much and miss her dearly. She would say I was her connection to her mom.