Never pass by a senior citizen without wondering what kind of life they have led. This has been a century of war and movement around the Globe. Canada and America are populated by people who came from other countries looking for a better life. My family was no exception. I am so proud to be a Canadian and so proud of my family!
I knew all of my grandparents until well into my 20s so was blessed to hear about their lives and experiences. A lot of kids find family stories fascinating and I was no exception. Whenever Remembrance Day rolls around, I do remember a lot about how wars shaped my family history, and brought both sides of my families here to Canada. Above is a photo of my Grandma Kahara on one of her birthdays (84, I think). She was such a well-loved lady, and always had her photo taken on her birthday so she could send it to her family members who lived all over the World, thanks to how war sent them scattering - to different parts of Europe, Canada and even Australia. I have this picture framed in my bedroom, and smile at her every day - she gives me a lot of strength and was an amazing woman.
Sadly there are still wars and families in strife around the World. One would think that we could learn and move on. I hope that the last century of warfare with technology will pass and go down as an embarrassing blink of an eye in human history. In the meantime I do what I can to bring peace to my home, friendships and whatever is in my life.
If each one of us tried to bring more peace and higher awareness to our relationships and beliefs, it would go a long way because these compassionate vibrations tend to spread like a positive virus, spreading peace to others. As Mother Theresa once said, she would never march against war, but if there is a march FOR peace, she'd be there.
The Journey of the Kahara Family, from Estonia to Alberta, then Thunder Bay (and here I am back in Alberta!)
My mom's family, the Kahara's, come from Narva Estonia, on the Russian border. Estonia has been repeatedly occupied by Russia over the past century or more. When other parts of the World were busy with WWII, Russia moved in on Estonia again. My Grandpa was very nearly sent to Siberia when some suspicious Estonians were rounded up. His kindness was good karma. Earlier, he and my Grandma had shared food with a Russian, who was there that day and spoke on Grandpa's behalf. Grandma's sister and her husband who were teachers, had already been sent to Siberia and were never seen again.
Johannes and Dagmar Kahara, my grandparents. Strong people, kind people, remarkable journey.
A group of Estonians decided it was time to leave. The night before leaving by foot, Grandpa shot all of their farm animals including his prize horse - a retired race horse on which my mom and her siblings rode to school. How sad that must have been! He told the kids the dog ran away, and I always wonder if it did, or if he was being kind and sparing their hearts the death of their dog. They moved by foot across the frozen bay and past a border guard to Finland. From there, they kept moving, living in Finland, then Sweden. Eventually, they bought a boat and sailed around the frozen sea as far as Cork Ireland. What a miracle they survived that journey! Last year at a Women's Retreat, I met a lady named Rose who is from Cork, and one of her friends married an Estonian who came there during the war - we think it was from this same group. Small world.
The Estonians were taken into a Red Cross camp in Cork for a year. During that time, my mom and her family loved Ireland and learned to speak Irish Gaelic. They thought they were learning English and didn't know they weren't until they arrived in Canada. They sailed to Canada in an ocean liner, and with many other immigrants were sent to Coaldale Alberta to live as tenants on a sugar beet farm. They picked sugar beets there for two years, as a way to pay back the Canadian government for taking them in. After that, they moved to Port Arthur (Thunder Bay) because of the large Finnish population there. In fact, the Finnish language was so commonly spoken (and still is) that my Grandma never did learn to speak English very well, and I always communicated with her in Finglish, a common tongue in Thunder Bay!
The family home in Estonia has always remained in the Kahara name and recently my Uncle Eero and my cousin travelled there to see it, and check things out. There could be a lot of red tape, but apparently there is a possibility it could be brought back into our family name. My grandmother's brother lived there until he died - as a caretaker for the Russians. He was not allowed to cut any wood for warmth and slept in the barn with the animals to stay warm. Unbelieveable, but true. We need to remember these things - not to hold grudges but to make sure it doesn't happen again and strive to be better.
The Brinkworths and the Bonds - Soldiers in the families
My father's family also had military history but further back. His grandfather was a career soldier who was in the British army and stationed in India, though he also fought in the Boer War and in Afghanistan, being one of the men who survived the Khyber Pass crossing which was the subject of the famous poem by Rudyard Kipling. Kipling called the pass a sword cut through the mountains (1919) and a British soldier said every stone in the pass was soaked with blood. Imagine - there is still war in Afghanistan today!
My mom and dad, and my Nanna and Pops (Doris and Charlie) ... and me! Nanna and Pops lived with us as I was growing up, so I was close to them and got to know them very well - the way a family should be. They had a separate apartment upstairs in our house - but moved out when I was a teenager so I could have it (sweet).
My great-grandfather was away more than he was home. Because my grandfather (Pops) was the only son in the family, he was not allowed to enlist and had to stay home to look after his mom and sisters. When his dad retired from the army, the family moved from Yorkshire to Canada - to Port Arthur. The old soldier, my great grandfather Brinkworth, became a gardener in retirement, at Stanley Park in Vancouver, and lived with my great aunt there. My sister owns his watering can. My father has his pocket watch. There are notches engraved in it, and we don't know what they represent. Pops was a grain inspector in Thunder Bay and was also Grand Master of the Masonic Temple there (I always wondered about that...).
My Grandma (Nanna) was originally a Bond from Belfast. Her family moved from Leeds, England to Port Arthur and she met my Pops here in Canada. Her brother Bob Bond was killed in WWI in a training mission in the Maritimes. He was her only, baby brother. He had married a girl there, who the family never did meet. In her old age, Nanna got Alzheimers and was obsessed with her baby brother for the last year or so of her life. It came back to her - as with so many Alzheimer's patients who remember their youth but nothing about present life. What sad times then when communication was so difficult, unlike today where the World is brought together by technology. I always think of some woman who married Bob Bond, who could have been in our family but moved on with her life after WWI.
Another member of my father's family had an interesting military history. He joined the Northwest Mounted Police (now RCMP) and ended up coming west (like me). There is a 'Brinkworth Park' in Regina and there are some Brinkworths around here - there is even one here, in Edmonton. We have no idea if they are related but it is interesting to know about this. Brinkworth is a rare name, and running across Brinkworths is always a jolting experience for me. How I wish I had children to carry the name on, but I will do it through my writing.
I know that everyone has family stories that mean a lot to them at this time of year. Thanks for letting me share mine. I've spent Remembrance Day alone for decades now (as the "ex" always visited a friend on this weekend) and have many memories of visiting my Grandma on this day, then walking to the Cenotaph in Port Arthur with one of the dogs. Bagpipes were always playing at these ceremonies.
The women, my Grandma and Mom, Nanna and Aunt Lea
(my Mom's sister, who I visited in Thunder Bay last May - see the archives for May 2010)
I used to live in an apartment attached to my Grandma Kahara's house, which was such a blessing - I am honoured she was not just my Grandma but a great friend too. I miss her them all every day.
I often would cry on this weekend feeling a little lonely and overwhelmed by family history. I still find it a very emotional time, as my grandparents are all gone, along with my Mom and one of her brothers. The family really has fallen away over the years as we've got older. I always felt very lucky to know my grandparents so well, and am so glad I knew all of the many war stories, including some really hair-raising stories my Grandma Kahara used to tell. For example, when she lived in Finland - she said that Jewish people were not allowed to walk on sidewalks. Can you imagine? My Grandparents were good, Christian people and she said they would sneak food to a Jewish family they knew. It could have got them in trouble, but did not.
The next generation of women - my sister Lori and her daughter Rachel, with me and my Grandma, back in Thunder Bay. Rachel is a beautiful teenager now! She comes from a lot of strong women in her background and I know she will be one too.
My Grandma Kahara really is one of my heroes and I can only wish to have some of the qualities she had in her lifetime. I think I inherited the farming gene from the Kaharas. Back in Narva, Grandma and others in the village tended a village flock of sheep. When I got sheep in 1999, Grandma was so surprised! We sat in the field together and she would tell me everything she remembered about caring for them. It was such a wonderful time.
I wish I had children to share these stories with, but hope one day that my niece and nephew will want to learn more about their family history, and be proud of it as I am!
As part of my dedication to peace, I sponsor a little boy in Mongolia through World Vision and hope that with my small donation, his family can stay together and forge a future.
Dedicated to my niece and nephew Rachel and Alex Lehtonen. Rachel looks so much like my Mom and I think she has the strong Kahara independent streak too, plus a love of animals. Alex is such a smart kid, he inherits the intelligence of my Pops, who was such a well-read and classy man, and the curiousity of my Uncle Eric Kahara, who spoke so many languages and travelled around the World. Alex has the name Brinkworth as one of his middle names, to carry on the tradition of his family, a typical Canadian family, from other parts of the World, blended and proud of our history.
LEST WE FORGET
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