I was born on March 29th, 1926, as Ester Ruth Hicks in Port Arthur, Ontario, which is now Thunder Bay. It’s a northern community, so the people who lived there had to be self-sufficient and hardworking to survive the isolation and the long, cold, harsh winters of Northern Ontario. My dad was an engineer, and shortly after I started school in Port Arthur, he got a job to build a hotel in Jellicoe, a small mining town in Ontario.
I remember the preparations for our move to Jellicoe—how Mom had to buy my younger sister Fran and me brand-new wardrobes at the only store in Port Arthur in order for us to survive the winters of Jellicoe. The store sold mostly boys’ clothing, but I remember how Mom did her best to make the boys’ clothes suitable for us to wear. This was no easy task, and I was so impressed with Mom’s ability to transform a boy’s brief into girls’ underwear.
My first memory of Jellicoe was staying at Great Aunt Grace’s house, which was across the lake from our new home in Jellicoe, which was actually more of a “shack.” I always marveled that we didn’t freeze over the winter months in that tiny “shack” that was our home.
This is where I learned how to make real sauerkraut—in a large barrel—a process that took over a month to ferment. I really thought this was fantastic, as I had only ever tasted sauerkraut from a can. After trying real sauerkraut, I swore I would never have it from a can again!
When I was 16, my dad got a job in Toronto. Our parents left for Toronto to find a home for us and sent for Fran and me once they settled. We stayed in Jellicoe with our grandma until then. I got a job as a homemaker for a doctor’s family in town. I loved that job and saved enough money to purchase our train tickets to Toronto, new outfits, and a new outrageous straw hat for the journey. My mom used to tease me because she remembered seeing me coming off the train carrying our luggage, holding my 10-year-old sister’s hand, while sporting this ridiculous straw hat! I couldn’t believe the size of Toronto—the largest town I had ever seen was Port Arthur, and Toronto was nothing like it.
I met my first husband, Arthur, in 1946. We married and had children. Life was tough for us, as it was for most young couples post-war. We struggled to find a good home to raise our children, struggled with employment, and struggled with good health. My youngest son passed away at 11 months old from tracheitis. Later, my youngest daughter, Peggy, suffered a severe bout of measles as a baby, which affected her ears. The damage resulted in 75% hearing loss in both ears. She recovered from measles, but her hearing never returned. I spent most of my time learning ways to teach her how to speak, communicate, and function independently.
Years later, after all the children had grown, my oldest daughter was diagnosed with cancer. I became her primary caregiver and companion, traveling from Etobicoke to Burlington every day to take care of her. It was so difficult and traumatic to witness my own daughter disappearing before my eyes. She passed away before she reached the age of 40.
I was widowed twice. After the death of my second husband in 1978, I began painting. I had never painted before but knew I needed to try, so I purchased supplies and started. I intuitively knew what to do and loved it. I showed off my work at local exhibitions, learned new techniques from other artists, and created artwork that still hangs in our homes today. I am fortunate to have found painting, as it helped me learn so much about others and myself.
My advice to others would be: You can feel the hurt, but you must carry on as best as you can. You can’t forget the loss, but you have to let go of the hurt. You only have one life to live, so you have to make the best of what you’ve got.
I have been a client with Peel Senior Link for two years. They have been so helpful. Some days I can’t do anything, but there is always someone there to provide the help when I ask for it. The support from Peel Senior Link is invaluable.