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Writer's pictureMillsman

Gratitude... Truly Grateful



This weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving and it is generally a time of turkey, pumpkin pie and families and friends taking time to gather.

Essentially, it also the time to be thankful and grateful for what we have been blessed with in our lives.

Essentially, it also the time to be thankful and grateful for what we have been blessed with in our lives.

Just a few days ago in one of our schools, we were asked what we are thankful in our personal lives, home and school.

I am thankful for my wife, brother, family and friends both near and far but this year, I am especially grateful for my parents, especially my mom and I want to celebrate them in this thanksgiving edition of my blog.


The Bumble Bea turned 94 years young in September and she is truly a living legend.

The Bumble Bea turned 94 years young in September and she is truly a living legend.

I think it really matters where you come from and whose you are and while I am ultimately a child of God, He gave my parents the privilege of raising me and I am grateful for my wonderful parents and so here’s a little window on the people I call mom and dad.


The story of my dad & my mom is a romantic tale I think would have been very cool to have videotaped and recorded but since we only have paper and this computer, let me tell you a little bit about them.


The story of my dad & my mom is a romantic tale I think would have been very cool to have videotaped and recorded but since we only have paper and this computer, let me tell you a little bit about them.


How they would meet is crazy; a guy from Bermuda meets a Montreal girl in the early 50’s….

My mom was born in Montreal in the early 20’s. Her dad was a leather craftsman, a shoemaker from the North Carolina. His trek to Canada began when his family shipped him up to Chicago in hopes of a better life than he would have probably had in North Carolina at the time with the racial division and inequalities for people of color.


While he was in Chicago, he heard stories of Canada, specifically Montreal and the opportunities that it could have for him so he made a plan and that was to head to Montreal. And he did.

He met a French Canadian woman after he had been here for a while. They married and not long after, mom came into the world. Unfortunately, her mom died when mom was young so she really didn’t know her and missed out on that relationship.


Because grandpa worked a lot, mom was shuffled off to boarding schools, nun’s schools and her formative years were not easy. But somehow she made it and her disposition of being cheerful even when it would be gloomy still is a featured characteristic of my mom’s experience today.


Mom tells me how, when she was lonely and feeling like no one cared about her, would walk the streets of the city to pass the time away and as she puts it, the trees, the birds, the landscape would cheer her up and as she says, got some serious exercise in while on her walks.

Mom tells me how, when she was lonely and feeling like no one cared about her, would walk the streets of the city to pass the time away and as she puts it, the trees, the birds, the landscape would cheer her up and as she says, got some serious exercise in while on her walks.

Maybe it was also her affiliation with church, singing in the choir, having some positive influences that kept her feet on the ground when it was tough going that made her resilient. But resilient she was and still is.


There was a youth convention that was taking place in the spring of 51 and mom was going. Little did she know that her life was about to change forever.


Dad was born on the beautiful island of Bermuda. Dad was a very industrious young man and took up carpentry when he was young and in fact was a master carpenter. We still have a few pieces to prove it so many years later. But his dream was to become a minister so he set out in the late 1940’s to see that dream come into being. Dad went to bible college in Toronto and achieved the first part of the dream and graduated.

One spring in the early 1950’s, a lot of his classmates were heading to Belleville, Ontario for the annual youth convention. Little did he know that his life was going to change forever on that weekend.


A friend of mom knew that this handsome fellow from Bermuda was going to be at convention (they didn’t even have social media but news still traveled fast) and the plot was set for a date/meeting.

The first date as mom tells it would have been one for the ages because my dad, who was always prim and proper was trying to make a good, first impression. That impression had him dropping his chicken in his lap.

The first date as mom tells it would have been one for the ages because my dad, who was always prim and proper was trying to make a good, first impression. That impression had him dropping his chicken in his lap.

Amazingly enough, mom wasn’t deterred. A 2 year courtship of letters across the ocean (by this time, dad graduated and moved back to Bermuda) brought about a December wedding.


Dad and mom moved to Bermuda where I was born in 1961 and then a few years later, my mom’s dad passed away and even though the plan wasn’t to stay in Montreal, circumstances changed their plans and had to plant roots in La Belle Province.


I always wondered about the furniture we had in our home. Everything didn’t match but I never asked about it; just thought it was normal so one day a few months after dad had passed away, somehow the subject came up. I found out that they didn’t plan on staying but when it became apparent that they had to, it meant they were starting from scratch.


It was the neighborhood, a mix of French Canadians, Polish, Ukrainian, Italians who gave my parents furniture that became what I grew up on, sat and jumped on, entertained in. None the wiser, I thought it was great!


My Brother was born not too long after that transition and life as the Mills family kicked in.

I owe my parents a debt of gratitude; dad had a number of offers to go back to Bermuda and take over churches on the island but he turned them down so my brother and I could have the best chance to succeed.

Pretty powerful to sacrifice a personal dream for your kids.


Fun story:

From protector to advocate, mom was been the deal. Scared me sometimes too. One day when I was in grade 5, 3 boys had beaten me up 3 weeks earlier but Tom couldn’t just leave it be. The school bus would take us home at lunch hour so it was grilled cheese, chicken noodle soup and the Flintstones. Tom had been gloating for 2 weeks about beating me up and this one day in particular was yapping in my ear about how they beat me up and well, that was way too much so I pulled him off the bus and as I was laying a beat down on him, the bus monitor is saying “you’re going to kill him” and I’m seeing red.


Suddenly, I get lifted off the ground and I’m in the air! Why? Because, super mom heard the commotion, came down and calmly lifted me in the air, over her shoulder and brought me back into our yard.

She had to help me breathe and calm down and that was the day that I decided never to cross my mom because if she could lift me up like that, well, she could be dangerous…


When mom had a knee replacement done 25 years ago, she was in a rehabilitation center for 6 plus weeks. Many times, I would go by for a few minutes to check in on her. Mom was “never” in her room; I’d find her holding court in the lounge or cafeteria with the other patients. Never dull or complaining, she would say that “she needed to brighten up someone else’s day” so she would and did.


Where we lived growing up, we lived across the street from a grocery store and it was rare not to see someone standing by the steps talking to mom because well, people needed to talk and mom obliged.

Where we lived growing up, we lived across the street from a grocery store and it was rare not to see someone standing by the steps talking to mom because well, people needed to talk and mom obliged.

I think of how mom never had a bad word to say about anyone, even those who mistreated her. Somehow, mom would say that there are some things that were to be left in God’s hands and she wasn’t to get muddy and dirty with throwing unkindness back by word or deed.


When I was running my youth center and youth group downtown for many years, after dad had passed away, mom was coming everywhere with us. And mom became my oldest youth adult sponsor. In fact, when there the occasions when she didn’t come to something, the students were always asking, “Where’s Grandma Bea”? It was like “we like you guys” but not as much as Grandma Bea but we knew.

Mom had/has that way of disarming the most hard and rough exterior and warming up the room with the life and love that flows from her.

Mom had/has that way of disarming the most hard and rough exterior and warming up the room with the life and love that flows from her.

It was interesting that mom could figure out the student who was most needy and would make it a point to show consistent love and care to them. And she didn’t need any coaching on how to do it. She just did!!!!!


Mom had a fall a few years back that limited her mobility somewhat, (still gets around using a stroller and walker for balance) but you wouldn’t know it by her attitude. Always has something positive to say even when the bones are a little stiffer than they used to be. And mom still loves to travel, whether near or far and in the past 4 years, mom traveled to Bermuda twice a host of other little excursions.


Why is it noteworthy? I think it says that life to be lived well and/or right depending on your semantics starts from the inside out.

Why is it noteworthy? I think it says that life to be lived well and/or right depending on your semantics starts from the inside out.

I think about a lady who had modest beginnings, who, because of her skin color and being bi-racial in an era that frowned on people that were was treated badly not only in school, but in her neighborhood, boarding school(s) etc yet somehow mom never became embittered that it derailed her motivation to live right.


Those long walks to clear her head, to regain some balance to offset the hurts and slights, had positive spinoffs.


For one, knowing dad like I did, if her spirit had bitter waters in it, he would not have invested his time and energy in a situation like that.


I remember a family friend on their 40th wedding anniversary say during the festivities that he had heard about my mom as a young man and the words he used were,

“Bea’s reputation was that she had something good to say about everyone and it holds true to this day”.

“Bea’s reputation was that she had something good to say about everyone and it holds true to this day”.

Even today, mom is continually expressing her love, admiration and solidarity towards my brother and I in different ways and it is truly heartwarming.


So I’ve been thinking, on this celebration of thanksgiving, what can I do to honor the godly, loving, warm heritage I’ve received from dad and mom?

It is to go and do the same for as long as I can, as much as I can with all that I am.

It is to go and do the same for as long as I can, as much as I can with all that I am.

After all, that’s what mom has shown me/us so I think it’s the least I can do and in the process, others can experience some of what I’ve had the blessing to receive in my life.


I can hear her praying for me/us, some nights before its time to turn in for bed and mom would say let’s read some scripture and invariably, she would read Psalms 150 and there would be emphasis on “let everything that has breath praise the Lord!”


Her relationship with Jesus is still as bright as it ever was. It’s not hard to follow in her steps and dads because how they lived/lives works……

A living legend living in my home; that’s worth celebrating and being thankful for!

A living legend living in my home; that’s worth celebrating and being thankful for!

Dave




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