The long road, Chapter 4
- Glen Walker
- Sep 9, 2024
- 7 min read
Updated: Mar 14
CHAPTER 4
Oh Canada
It took everything we had, everything we owned and had saved to get us to Canada. We moved into her Mom and Wally’s basement in a small town in Southern Ontario with 2 suitcases and a carry-on each. I had cleared her student loan debt with my grandpas inheritance, so we could really start fresh, clean and clear. Start from scratch but the sky was the limit.
Narc was home in a sense that everything was familiar to her, however leaving our nephews behind that we both adored and perhaps a dream of living in Africa was heartbreaking or at least disappointing. I understood that she may have held a little resentment towards me, but we talked about it and she knew and appreciated (??) that I needed to be a leader for us. She said that she didn’t hold anything against me and maybe she didn’t at the time. However 9 years later it may have played a role.
I really believed that Canada was where we could make a go of it. We both believed that with a little perseverance we could make it. It was a fresh start and starting from nothing, however everything we built would be ours and nothing could take it away from us unfairly. Canada was a safe place. Good hardworking people who hold the door open for you from miles away, kind, open minded and accepting, right?
We had come from being big fish in a small pond to tiny minnows swimming with sharks. We had each other, we were both hard workers, and believed that if we found fairness and opportunity we could fly.
Thank’s to Wally, (Narc’s late step dad, also called Dad2 or D2), a very generous and giving soul. I got my first job working at an auto recycling scrapyard where he worked. Saying Wally was a personality isn’t doing him justice. If you needed anything, and I mean anything! He knew a guy or would help you out himself. A Newfoundlander with a distinct moustache, who loved barbecuing with his shirt off and drinking beer. Beers and bbq’s gave me a sense of my African roots.
The scrapyard was humbling work for someone who had run businesses all his life. I needed to pay my dues and that was fine. Being “Fresh off the boat” as they say, I had no idea how the Canadian system worked. All I knew was that we needed a pay check and this is something I was willing and capable of doing. I soon learnt to quite enjoy doing automotive, mechanical type work. I learnt enough mechanical skills to take care of Narc and my own vehicle’s maintenance for the rest of our lives. This has saved us thousands of dollars and we needed to save every cent.
Narc struggled at first to get hired for her talents and skills at marketing and customer service. She felt unnecessarily guilty about this, but was soon on the payroll too. She is naturally outgoing (I thought) and can form a rapport within seconds. It’s quite remarkable and something I appreciated because it takes me a little while to get comfortable with new people.
We were both working hard and paying our dues. Step 1 was complete and we could budget and breathe.
Living in your parents basement is obviously not much fun for a couple, but we made it work. It was awkward at times. We escaped with little road trips down to the lake to feed the ducks and chipmunks or the river with a Tim Horton’s coffee and Boston Cream donut. I started ‘feeling out of place’ and isolated but put it down to being ‘fresh-off-the-boat’.
Sometimes I felt so uncomfortable that I’d take a long walk as far as I could go and just sit next to the river in silence. Silence and nature was my way of taking a breath to carry on. I was questioned a lot if I missed Africa? I did for its simplicity and freedom, but also knew that we were doing the right thing for our own long term freedom in Canada. I just needed to be reminded of that once in a while and sitting down by the river kept my Spirit going. The respect for life and the safety factor in Canada was just too important and took a large weight off my shoulders. I had never slept this good before I came to Canada. I loved the remarkable difference in the value of life. Pulling over and stopping for emergency vehicles was new-to-me but felt so right!
I did feel lonely and out of place. Africa was my domain especially up in the mountains and I hosted Narc there if you will. Canada was Narc’s domain and she hosted me. I kept telling myself we were inseparable partners and our friendship was still top of mind, but the dynamic** had reversed and I don't know if that was a good thing?
We ate out with her friends and went over to her best friend Marg’s house for fires. I felt welcomed by them, I really did, but not listened to. It was as if my history and culture were irrelevant, “I was in Canada now, so act Canadian.” This was difficult because many people don’t have the faintest idea what it’s like growing up the way I did or the challenges and obstacles I had overcome. Their first world problems, although probably important to them, felt a little ungrateful to me at times.
Note: There is also a narcissistic trait revealed here and perhaps a warning sign. I was not valued for who I was as company but as a reinforcement for a facade. I just thought people weren’t really interested and perhaps I was the weird one? The importance of me going out, going to Marg’s house (being seen with her, “doing what she wanted) comes up in later chapters.
I struggled with keeping my character fully exposed. I felt the need to bite my tongue and therefore my confidence suffered. I’m not an extrovert unless someone looks me in the eyes and we can have a real conversation, then I’ll talk your leg off.
Our first big blow came when Narc’s Mom and Wally planned on retiring and heading off to be with The Boys (Our nephews) in Africa. They could spend more time with The Boys and appreciate those special years that unfortunately Narc and I had to miss out on. It coulda/woulda/shouda been a mutually beneficial arrangement. Narc and I could take care of the house, bills and pets and maybe save up a little money. And they could rest assured that their house was safe if they ever decided to come back. Well, once again Narc and I were treated like we didn’t know anything and we ended up having to move into an apartment.
The apartment took its pound of flesh and then some. You can imagine the effect this would have had on a country boy like myself. Narc had long commutes to work and I was hammering it out at the scrapyard. After about a year, Mom and Wally needed a place back in Canada again and unfortunately no longer had their house, so they got a trailer to spend summers in a trailer park. This provided some relief for us to escape the apartment. It’s remarkable what we appreciated when all we had was a balcony. Simple things like grass, having a fire or cooking sausages. It was the little things that saved us. Overall the apartment took a massive toll and much of that time is blocked-out from our memories.
Our second blow came when I was still at the scrapyard 3 years later. I had possibly taken ONE day off work that entire time. Part of my job was cutting vehicles into halves and quarters and safety or training was not something this verbally abusive workplace prioritized. I was none the wiser being a new immigrant. With sub standard equipment vibrating immensely and LOUDLY inside hollow vehicles, my hands and arms started to lose feeling, dexterity and turn white. Apparently I had what is called Hand Arm Vibration syndrome and would have this nerve damage for the rest of my life.
This was devastating news and I remember talking to Narc about how I might not be able to play catch or wrestle with our kids one day. I loved wrestling with The Boys in Africa. We didn’t talk about kids that much yet. Having our own was just a thought in the back of our minds as a future possibility. This injury brought it up for me and I believe in the back of my mind I knew I wanted children with Narc. We just had to get there first. We couldn’t afford a pet, so how were we going to afford children? However my main reason for not having kids early was because of the most important lesson I would want to pass onto them. To follow their dreams and never stop believing. If I had settled for an average life, how would that have been a good example?
This is where my mind was at:
If I had not listened to my heart or had stopped believing, I would never have met Narc. And she was the best, most beautiful thing that had come into my life. An exquisitely unique combination of both fighter and fairy, magical and realist, motherly instincts and spontaneous free spirit.
Note: I believed in her completely, religiously.
🎶 Song: Religiously ~ Bailey Zimmerman (just swop woman/man in lyrics)
Note**: The dynamic shift. Being in Canada under a Permanent Residency Visa meant I was “sponsored” by Narc. She held the reigns. This comes up again when I finally get my autonomy back; 🇨🇦 Citizenship.
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