I grew up about ten minutes from, Oromocto, in the middle of the woods; one of the last, sparsely, spaced houses at the end of a dead-end road. In the country, in the middle of nowhere, Geary. I’ve always loved where I lived, I still do to this day. It’s a very different life than growing up in the city. Each way of life has its advantages and disadvantages. I learned things at which some city girls would be aghast. That’s okay though. We are all meant to be different and we all have our own strengths. I’ve always been one to do things on my own, but during the past year, I have been learning to ask for help. It’s getting a little easier now. Humility is a wonderful lesson. We all have something to be grateful for. I can’t help but reflect on the reasons why I love my community so much. Everything that I have learned, I learned country-style.
I was brought up in the seventies and eighties. It wasn’t just a different time. It was a different planet, in a different universe, compared to how things are now. My father worked for the government, so he was home most evening and weekends. I followed him around outdoors, instead of helping my mother with indoor chores. They probably wanted me outside so I could burn off excess energy, and I had plenty of it. There was no such thing as an ADHD diagnosis back in those days. No, I was labelled hyperactive and henceforth on, was put on a more restrive diet. The number one thing to go from my meal repertoire was sugar, in any shape or form. I’m thankful I had friends to help me out by sharing their chocolate bars, or treats with me. This usually ended up with me “acting out”. I’d talk incessently, and get myself and whomever I was “pestering” in trouble for talking during class hours. Weekends were a mixed blessing. It was awesome to be out of school but Saturday’s in my house growing up were work days. That’s when we got all the chores done, the extra chores. We went out in our wood lot and cut down trees for the wood stove. This meant splitting the wood, loading it in trailers, unloading in our yard and tossing it in basement , just to get ranked again. I followed my father around and watched him work on cars, change tires, and other general duties required to maintain a home and yard. I learned that work comes first and play comes after the job is done. Any job doing is worth doing well. I learned to use tools, and drive tractors. I helped build fences, barns, and decks. I dug for worms. I baited my own hook. I learned to fish. I learned to tie flys. I learned to flyfish. I learned from a young age how to handle guns properly and responsibly. I knew to always assume a weapon was loaded. I knew never to point a gun at anyone, ever.
I shot skeet and trap. I learned to how to track and how to hunt.
I learned about gardening and growing food. I learned about caring for animals. I learned about having a sense of community spirit. I learned about death, and the pain that comes with it after losing the treasured pets and farm animals we had over the years.
I learned that no matter how many hours and days you spend picking rocks out of the ground to help grow a nice lawn, the rocks always “grow” back. I learned to appreciate being able to see every star in the night’s sky.
I learned to identify various bird calls. I listened to the screams of fox at and howls of coyotes from my bedroom window. I learned about respecting our forests from our wood lot.
I learned to start fires. I learned to ride bikes, sleds, wheelers, tractors, and any truck.
I learned to climb trees and make tree forts. I learned how to ford small brooks and streams. I learned how to read a compass. I learned about wildlife all around me. I learned how to take care of farm animals. I rode horses. I played softball. I hung out with friends from the community. Everybody knew everybody back in those days. Those days are long gone. It’s okay. Time always marches on, with or without us. The important thing is that we learn. We learn to live, we learn to love, and we learn to laugh. We also learn from out mistakes. The most important thing I learned growing up is there is nothing that life can throw at me that I can’t handle.
Despite my father’s efforts to make me well-rounded and independant, i had a strict, religious, grandmother. Our family matriarch since I was a small child. She was a teacher, an English Teacher. She taught me how to be a lady. She is ultimately responsible for my exceptional communication skils. The rest of what she tried to impress upon me is still there, it’s just that I don’t call it up for action that often. My grandmother and I were very different people, and that’s okay. She gave me one of the greatest gift’s life has given me, my love of the English language.
Growing up in rural New Brunswick taught me things not every little girl grows up to learn. I grew accustomed to certain ways of life being a country girl. It’s a little more rough-and-tumble where I come from, a little rough-around-the-edges to some. I had two older brothers; one was just a year older than me. I learned to fight. I had to. They made me tough. We watched out for each other. The whole community watched out for each other’s kids. It was a different time but I don’t love it any less. I am not afraid of change. I welcome it. I think we’ve been stuck in the past in New Brunswick for way to long. The past is a nice place to visit, to reminisce, but we desperately need to move forward into the future. We need to make some serious changes if we don’t want to see the same thing over and over again. United we stand, divided we fall. We have community. We have hope. We have each other.