My childhood

A person might say that I am a drama queen, or I want to have a pity party for one, but believe me this is not the case.  First let me fill you in a little bit.

I was born in 1959 to Margaret and Raymond N.  2 yrs 1 month 1 wk later my brother was born.  Unfortunately my baby brother passed on August 10, 1961 at the tender age of 6wks.  So there is the first loss I suffered.  I don't really remember him but growing up I knew about him and always felt a part of me was missing.  My childhood was kind of messed up.  My mother left my father when I was 2 and half yrs old and dropped me off with my Grandparents (her parents) in Revelstoke BC.  I lived with them for about 4 yrs seeing my  Mom only when she had time off from work.  I think was about 4 when she came up to see ( Mom was living and working  in Vancouver BC) one weekend and brought a man with her.  Well that man turned out to be Joe G and my future step-dad.  Well the only dad I really knew growing up.  I went to live with them after graduating from Kindergarten.  My grandparents soon followed and moved to Vancouver, which was great in my eyes.  As I was the only grandchild and the apple of my grandparents eyes.  Needless to say I still basically lived with my grandparents as the only time I was with  my Mom and Dad was during the school week.  Then the year I was 7 my granddad passed away.  My world was shaken completely apart.  At 7 I thought who am I going to eat my Rice Krispies with before bed time.  Who is gonna tuck me in on the weekends?  My grandmother was so sad as was my mom and dad.  It's funny one of the things that stick out in my mind is this.  My granddad died October 26th and when Halloween came around that year I didn't want to go cause Granddad always took me out, but my Uncle (mom's younger brother) insisted I go and he take me.  Well I cried every step of the way but that was the best Halloween ever as every door we knocked on they would ask my uncle why I was crying and he would tell them that we had just buried my granddad , well they felt sorry for me and man oh man I cleaned up in the candy department....hahaha
Funny how out of such a sad time there is a funny memory that makes me smile everytime I think about it.   
My memories are not all sad I have many memories that are funny and happy.  My Dad (step-dad) was an amazing man.  He worked hard and drank hard.  I was the boy he always wanted.  He taught me how to fish, took me camping and it was rough camping back then.  We would watch Saturday night Hockey together and root for our team the Toronto Maple Leafs.  I had my first taste of beer with him.  My mom was great.  She taught me how to cook, and bake.  When I was little she would dress up the same and have our hair cut the same.  She instilled in me that I should be proud of my heritage even though when she told me this I wasn't really sure about where I belonged at all. My relationship with my Mom is for another day.  
As I got older I realized that my Mom and Dad were very hard workers and they did their best to make sure that I had clothes on my back and a roof over our heads and food on the table.   Our house was always full of friends and family.  My grandmother remarried  to a wonderful man and his daughter married my moms other brother.  I had gained an aunt.  Moms youngest brother  joined the US army and served in Vietnam and came home when I was about 12.   
When I was 13 moved to Ottawa, Ont so that my dad could be closer to his birth place PEI.  (Ill leave that for another time).   This was about the time that my Mom and I had that relationship that most mother and daughters have for the next few years.  She couldn't handle me being a teenager and I couldn't handle her telling me what to do.  Meanwhile Dad would just say "Now Marge, Just leave her be for now .  Ill talk to her".  Which was fine with me cause I usually got what I wanted from dad.  I remember the time that we took mom fishing out at the cottage in Kars and she caught a fish and had to get me to take it off the hook for her.  Or the time that dad said " Cindy bait your mothers hook for her please".  
Then all hell broke loose and I rebelled and left home to strike out on my own at 17.  I knew it all then or so i thought.  I didn't know until years later that i had broken Dad's heart when I left.   More on that some other day.  
So that is my first 17 years.  
Getting close to supper time so Ill sign off for now.   
Until next time!