Joey’s mother depend on her very much. Being the only girl in the family and the oldest with four younger brothers, she
took over some of her mother’s housework. Grandmother worked very hard too, unlike some older women who just sat by the door and stared at the passers-by daily. Joey’s father only came home from the city once a month. When he was home he usually slept all day to make up for the long working hours. So the three generations of women were left to take care of everything.
Her grandmother and mother ran a convenience store near a elementary school. They left early in the morning to the store so the school children could buy food and drinks when they missed their breakfast. When her grandmother and mother were gone for the day, Joey was left in charge. She sent the older boys to school and kept the youngest one within her sight. Her daily workload included cleaning, doing the laundry and helping her brothers with their school work.
She dropped out of school in grade six. Her mother said, " Girls don’t need education. All they need is a good fortune. You marry well, then you are guaranteed a lifelong good living." Joey wanted to ask her mother what would happen if the husband deserted you. But she dared not.
Joey loved to read and finished all the books in the village library, although there weren’t too many. Austen, the Brontes, Dickens, Lawrence, Joyce, Woolf, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Balzac, Kafka etc., she read them all. She didn’t understand some of them but she read them anyway. Every night her grandmother had to order her to put down the book and go to sleep. Sometimes she went up into the hills or sat on the rocks by the sea, places where she could read in peace. She had no friends, since she spent all her spare time reading.
Joey never argued with her mother. She finished all her daily work and still found time to tutor the other children’s homework, to write letters for the elderly and to paint posters for the theatre. Anything to make some extra money. Life was going on quietly for a few years, except that she turned down two marriage proposals. Her mother was quite upset, more about Joey’s rebellion than about her daughter’s future.
Not long after her youngest brother entered high school, Joey told her family that she’s leaving to North America. Her father thought she was crazy. Her mother was furious. Her grandmother cried and her brothers begged her not to leave.
She was nineteen. It was a chaotic era, the Vietnam-war, the hippies, Woodstock, the civil right movement, the assassinations and the Watergate conspiracy.
Thirty-five years later, Joey is in her office, a heritage building with exposed wood beans and brick walls. Every morning she stands by the window looking up at the sky with a cup of coffee. It is her way to welcome the day. Rain or shine, she never complaints about the weather. She makes her own coffee because she doesn’t like to order people around, and bakes biscotti for everybody in the office. She listens to classical music in the morning and jazz in the afternoon. On her desk, facing her is a photo of her two daughters. The elder girl finished English Literature in UBC and is currently working in Toronto. The younger girl got a Fine Arts degree from Nova Scotia College of Art and wants to be a artist. Joey’s husband is her business partner. They own an art gallery. Behind her chair are bookcases of books, mostly art and literature. Joey still read, but these days she prefers poetry.
Her grandmother and mother ran a convenience store near a elementary school. They left early in the morning to the store so the school children could buy food and drinks when they missed their breakfast. When her grandmother and mother were gone for the day, Joey was left in charge. She sent the older boys to school and kept the youngest one within her sight. Her daily workload included cleaning, doing the laundry and helping her brothers with their school work.
She dropped out of school in grade six. Her mother said, " Girls don’t need education. All they need is a good fortune. You marry well, then you are guaranteed a lifelong good living." Joey wanted to ask her mother what would happen if the husband deserted you. But she dared not.
Joey loved to read and finished all the books in the village library, although there weren’t too many. Austen, the Brontes, Dickens, Lawrence, Joyce, Woolf, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Balzac, Kafka etc., she read them all. She didn’t understand some of them but she read them anyway. Every night her grandmother had to order her to put down the book and go to sleep. Sometimes she went up into the hills or sat on the rocks by the sea, places where she could read in peace. She had no friends, since she spent all her spare time reading.
Joey never argued with her mother. She finished all her daily work and still found time to tutor the other children’s homework, to write letters for the elderly and to paint posters for the theatre. Anything to make some extra money. Life was going on quietly for a few years, except that she turned down two marriage proposals. Her mother was quite upset, more about Joey’s rebellion than about her daughter’s future.
Not long after her youngest brother entered high school, Joey told her family that she’s leaving to North America. Her father thought she was crazy. Her mother was furious. Her grandmother cried and her brothers begged her not to leave.
She was nineteen. It was a chaotic era, the Vietnam-war, the hippies, Woodstock, the civil right movement, the assassinations and the Watergate conspiracy.
Thirty-five years later, Joey is in her office, a heritage building with exposed wood beans and brick walls. Every morning she stands by the window looking up at the sky with a cup of coffee. It is her way to welcome the day. Rain or shine, she never complaints about the weather. She makes her own coffee because she doesn’t like to order people around, and bakes biscotti for everybody in the office. She listens to classical music in the morning and jazz in the afternoon. On her desk, facing her is a photo of her two daughters. The elder girl finished English Literature in UBC and is currently working in Toronto. The younger girl got a Fine Arts degree from Nova Scotia College of Art and wants to be a artist. Joey’s husband is her business partner. They own an art gallery. Behind her chair are bookcases of books, mostly art and literature. Joey still read, but these days she prefers poetry.
— Writing is, give oneself from here an elsewhere, more here than before.
