Moving Day Part Ii

Moving Day – Part II

The winter of 1967-68 had been a difficult one for Michael.  He not only missed the familiar surroundings of Furbey’s Cove, but often felt out of place in his daughter and son-in-laws house, and longed for his own ‘space‘, as the young people called it. It wasn’t as though they weren’t kind and understanding, in fact both did everything possible to make him feel comfortable and relaxed, but home to him would always be  a two story house in Furby’s Cove that he had left back in September. The long winter too, meant more time spent inside with his thoughts and memories. For the first time in his life, Michael began to feel old. Frank Hawco and Dennis Young died that winter, the three had been born the same year and were life long friends who had fished out of Furbey’s Cove since their teens, in fact him and Frank had married sisters. On both occasions, Harold had taken Michael to the little church to pay his last respects but it was clear that the ordeal was difficult for him, and he began spending more and more time alone in his bedroom. Thoughts of his own impending death haunted him, not that he was afraid of dying, but of whether or not his family would keep their promise to bury him beside their mother back in the cove. Dennis and Frank, he noted had no such worries, since their wives had outlived them and would, when their time came, sleep next to their husbands in Cartersville. 

Spring came early in 1968 and seemed to breed new hope into the populate of the newly incorporated town. There had been problems, as was to be expected with such an influx of people, but with work on a new school and church expected to start in late April, many were breathing a sigh of relief. The old two room school that had served the forty or so families  in 1966,  was found to be grossly inadequate  in September of 1967, when the town’s population had more than tripled. Every available space was taken and some teachers faced classes of more then forty students. There had been troubles for the Roman Catholic population too, as more then ninety per cent of the  new arrivals were of that faith. The priest often celebrated six Masses on a weekend, two on Saturday and four on Sunday as well as hearing confessions on both days. Added to this were seven private communions for those too ill to attend public worship. Aside from all of this was the water and sewage dilemma which was top priority for the newly elected town council. It was expected that the Provincial government would pay ninety per cent of the cost by way of an outright grant, however the town would have to borrow the other ten per cent. With nothing  further on the proposed new paper mill, many of the young men felt they would have to return to their old fishing grounds for at least another year.  Michael too appeared happier now that the snow had disappeared and he watched the  days lengthen as they moved from March to April and finally into May. Work had begun on both the church and school and sometimes when he went for walks, he would stop to watch and note the progress being made. Even in the new community, he found that he new most of the older residents on a first name basis and watching the new school being built, he was even heard to say that the move was probably good for the young generation.

Most of the men returned to the old fishing grounds that Spring spending the nights in the abandoned towns and returning home to their families in Cartersville on Saturday evening. A few opted to work on the local roads which needed upgrading due to increased traffic and there was even talk of pavement the following year, though most doubted that it would happen that quickly. Later that Summer and Fall others would join them to work on the town’s water and sewage project in the hope that all houses would be serviced before the frost and snow marked the beginning of another winter. There had been much disgruntlement and even anger the previous year that such  preparations had not been made before resettlement. The proposed new paper mill appeared to be a dead issue as well, leaving many people to wonder about future employment and the government with a lot of fence mending to do before the next election. Meanwhile, the fishing season was proving to be one of the best in many years and the fish was now being bought fresh and  at a much better price. This eliminated the need for salting and drying, bringing to a virtual end a way of life that had persisted since the first settlers came to the island. All of this was not lost on Michael who had always been suspicious of any kind of change and making him feel more and more like a part of the past. The old traditions he knew would die with his generation.  Nevertheless, the warm Summer days, (it was one of the driest Summers on record) appeared to keep his spirits up, and in early August Harold and Sophie kept their promise of a trip home to Furbey’s Cove. For Michael that trip was the highlight of the Summer, he visited Emily’s grave bringing freshly picked flowers, he climbed Lookout Hill  and spent more than an hour listening to the Seagulls and watching the waters  continue to pound against the cliffs with a patience seen only in nature, and  as if  knowing that victory would eventually be their’s. He noted all the landmarks and felt the touch of his grandfathers hand one again. He saw the fishing boats in the distance and a warmth filled his heart with the knowledge that at least part of the old ways still remained.

September is noted in Newfoundland for beautiful Indian Summer weather and 1968 was no exception. As the month drew to it’s close and the trees took on the colours of Fall, Michael it seemed, was surrendering gracefully to the Autumn of his life. He spent more of his indoor time in the company of Harold and Sophie and watched the news and even some shows on the small TV they had purchased the year before. As Sophie worked about the kitchen on rainy days, she would smile at the laughter coming from the TV room, and knew that granny, of the Beverley Hillbillies was once again up to her antics. When he started watching wresting with Harold, she knew that her dad felt truly at home. Evan arrived home for the holidays and he too was delighted at his grandfather’s demeanor, and his keen interest in how his grandson was doing at university. This was their second Christmas in Cartersville and as they later agreed, one of the quietest in years.  The four attended Midnight Mass at the new church on Christmas eve and afterwards heartily wished their friends and each other a very Merry Christmas. On Christmas Day there was the usual opening of gifts in the morning and at midday, a Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. Later Evan left to visit with friends and stayed for a party that night. Some friends dropped by in the afternoon and evening and all partook of a little Christmas cheer. Boxing Day or St. Stephen’s Day as Michael insisted on calling it, was quiet and when Sophie and Harold went to visit some friends that evening (Evan had already gone out), Michael decided to retire early. Remembering past Christmases, he realized that more than anything, he missed the mummers and wondered if there would be any at all this year. There had been a few last year but some refused to allow them into their houses with newly carpeted floors. Michael sighed, it looked as if another tradition was ready to make an exit. 

Although the winter of 1969 was by most accounts a mild one , Michael spent most of it indoors and seemed in no hurry to venture outside.  On Easter Sunday, he attended Mass at 10:00 AM but later ate only sparingly of Sophie’s delicious Chicken dinner. The following day was sunny and mild and Michael announced that he was going for a walk, but was home again in less then twenty minutes. Sophie was worried but said nothing to her father. That night she and Harold discussed it quietly after Michael had retired. They both knew that getting the old man to go see a doctor would not be easy as in his eighty years on earth, he had neither visited a hospital nor been prescribed medication!  As it happened there would be no need for persuasion. Harold was preparing to leave the house in the morning when Michael  came out of his bedroom. One look  at his father-in-laws face told him something was drastically wrong. As he helped him to a chair the old man tried to speak, but his words were incomprehensible. Quickly, he went to the bedroom to warn Sophie, who was soon wide awake and at her father’s side. Harold called an ambulance immediately, yet it took nearly an hour before Michael was wheeled into the 20 bed Cottage hospital in Foster’s Point. The young doctor confirmed what they had already suspected, Michael had suffered a stroke. Soon Sophie’s  six brothers and three sisters were at the hospital, the one missing sibling, Charles, had been living in Ontario since 1953 and would be flying home tonight. Michael lived exactly two more weeks. During that time he recovered part of his speech, enough to converse with his family, though sometimes it was difficult to understand all that he was saying. At least one family member was with him throughout the entire fourteen days. Even as he became weaker, he continued to enquire each day as to whether it was sunny or if a storm  was brewing. When he was no longer able to speak, Sophie whispered  softly, “The weather will be fair all week, we’ll make it home okay”. Michael opened his eyes, and smiled ever so slightly. That night the Priest anointed him for death, and in the wee hours of the morning Michael passed to his reward.

A light rain was falling in Furbey’s Cove on Thursday April 24, as thirty-seven people, including the Parish Priest, stood around the newly dug grave. As the Casket was lowered into the grave, the priest intoned the  time-honoured  words, “ earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust”. Finally he raised his hand for the benediction, ”The Lord  Almighty—-   the rain stopped, the clouds parted, and the sun broke through — Michael, they knew was smiling.