My story of romancing phyllis-07, is Page 7 of 10 and continues from Page 6. In romancing phyllis-07, I learn about my parents youthful Romancing.

In this part of their life-story, Mom shocks me! Then, their young adult life-style memories come flooding out. Both my parents are passionate folks...

By Tsa-me-gahl.
X’aisla Rainforest, Kitamaat, Canada
Turtle Island, Mother Earth, Milky Way

Continued from Romancing Phyllis-06

Dad looks at me, a call for help. Mom looks at me, a definite dare.

I look back and forth at each of them in turn. I ask incredulously, “How in the world did you two ever get together?”

Quickly, Dad sucks in his breath and as he exhales he slowly says, “Awwww. You’re Mama picked me up,” he says in a soft sheepish tone looking at her.

I look at Mom in disbelief! “You did?! Did you!? Good Grief! How old were you?”

With a big satisfied smirk on her face Mom says, “Yeah! I sure did! I knew if I didn’t someone else would! I was 18. Your dad was 22.”

“How did it happen?” I ask, still looking back and forth at both of them and curious as all get out!

Dad looks steadily at me, saying, “We were just young. In wintertime our families used to have dances one weekend a month for us young folks. Everybody brought their own instruments. Most of our men learned to play them by ear by listening to those tall farm radios that ran on batteries."

"I remember those big old radios! How did our people get them to our village?" I ask.

"Like everybody else, we ordered them!" Dad exclaims.

"But how were they delivered to our village?" I ask.

"Well, sometimes our men would order them and they'd arrive on the steam ship with the Co-op Store's three-month order delivery. Other times our men picked them up in Vancouver when they went there to spend their fishing or lumbering money. And they'd bring back a radio on their boat. It was a luxury thing. Not everybody had one," Dad said.

"I remember we used to stand around the radio listening to music for a few minutes until we got bored with it. Then we'd go down to the beach or up to the woods in our forest to play. To us that was way bigger excitement!" I say.

"Yeah. Not everybody was interested in radios. The old people said, "Our young ones waste time listening to those 'talking boxes." There was lots enough to do to keep everybody busy without the radios. But it got to be more and more important," Dad says.

"Yes, of course. But mostly we felt removed from what was going on in the rest of the world. I remember as a kid, I felt like our village was the center of the universe and separate from the rest of the world," I say and continue, "But lets get back to yours and Mom's story," I say.

"Alright! Our men played the saxophone, trombone, mandolin, piano and drums. The singers usually played the base and regular guitars. And mostly, everybody knew the words to their music and sang along! To get ready for our dance, all us young folks decorated our big old hall with streamers and cedar boughs. On the night of the dance, halfway through the evening we had an intermission for our aunties to serve us boiled Nabob tea from those loose tea leaves. We sipped tea with salmon sandwiches made with homemade bread. Everybody brought their kids. It was a family affair. We had a competition for the best costume. Our aunties and uncles planned games for us too! It sure was fun!” He smiles at Mom.

Mom returns Dad's smile and adds in a light tone, “That afternoon Jeffrey Legait walked up and down our village paths hollering on top of his lungs in his loud nasal voice announcing the Halloween dance on Saturday night. Everybody's invited!”

“I remember him doing that when I was a kid!” I say as I mimic his nasal tone, “Come One! Come All! Bring all your kids! To the dance in our hall! This Saturday! Come One! Come All!”

We bust out laughing in unison at such a good heart-memory...

Continue to Romancing Phyllis Page 8 of 10

Mom and Dad were always too busy to share their romancing to love story. So romancing phyllis-07, was long overdue. Even their retirement years were full of activity. Mom's artwork, piano playing (for weddings and funerals), crocheting, knitting (for her grand-kids and great-grand-kids), and dedication to our traditional recipes were backdrops to her endless energy of creativity.

Every winter they'd dream up which seeds to order from their new plant catalogs. Aside from Dad's salmon fishing with his boyhood chum and cousin Moses Williams, they chose to spend their spring and summer hours in their garden.

They didn't retire. Nope...

Retire To Something

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