The Street - A Composite Sketch (30)

Not a very long street, just off a major arterial, it is shaped like a question mark. At the conclusion of the bulge it meanders into another street. One half of the street backs onto a heavily wooded ravine, a neighbourhood treasure, though few of the street's residents quite recognize its value, nor make use of its propinquity. It cleanses the air everyone breathes, it hosts birds and wildlife and presents a treasury of wildflowers throughout the seasons. At one time the street, part of a larger suburban community, shared a small-town address. It has long since been subsumed into the greater national capital of the country, through a wide-ranging amalgamation of communities and even farms. The street and the houses on it were built two and a half decades ago. The domiciles are comprised mostly of single-family, detached dwellings, with a handful of semis verging on the main thoroughfare. Many of the residents are the original home purchasers. They would comprise roughly 50% of the residents of the street. The semis appear to have changed hands far more often than the detached homes. And those homes that have been re-sold have often enjoyed a succession of owners. The original home owners who moved into their houses when their children were small have mostly bid farewell to now-grown children. The street represents an amalgam of family types, and there is a significant percentage at this time, of retired people, singly and in couples who, though their houses are meant for family occupation, still opt to remain in their too-large, but comfortable and familiar and valued homes. It is a very quiet street, with little traffic other than those who live there. The house fronts are diverse, and attractive. Most residents take care of their homes, seeing them as their primary investments. Furnaces have been replaced, and air conditioners, and also windows. Kitchens and bathrooms have been remodelled, and people have added decks and occasionally airy 'summer houses' to the backs of their homes. One-third of the homes boast swimming pools, in-ground and above-ground. Most people take pride in their properties, and feel they must achieve lawns that are weedless and smoothly green. Some painstakingly remove weeds by hand in the spring, others hire lawn-care companies to spread chemicals on their lawns. Invariably, the people who look after their own gardens and lawns have superior gardens and lawns. Each house has a large tree planted in front; maples, ash,crabapples, spruce or pine, fully mature. This is a community that is truly mixed, representing people from around the world, come to Canada as immigrants, settled and making the most of opportunities open to all its citizens in a free and open society noted for its pluralism and dedication to fair representation. There are the extroverts and the introverts, those who prefer not to mingle, others who do. They are herewith loosely sketched:

This is the Thirtieth part of the anatomy of The Street.

Originally from Alberta, where they left behind extended family, they bought their house on the street when their children were very young, two little boys. He, a gruff, good-hearted man, an optometrist who set up his business on the main street of town. He encouraged his clients to surrender their old eyeglasses to him for collection. To be sent to third-world countries where the poor were advantaged by this helpful gesture from the wealthy world. He was a giant of a man, tall and burly, with a quiet smile and an interest in people.

He wore a neat mustache and beard for years, adding a certain gravitas to his demeanor. When he eventually decided to reveal his face, shaving it clear of both beard and mustache hardly anyone recognized him. It was, in fact, a bit of a shock; at first people took him to be a visitor to the house, a relative, until it was revealed laughingly, that it was indeed himself. Himself found himself displeased with his new look, however, and speedily regrew his beard and mustache.

His wife had been a nurse by profession but when their children were young she stayed at home to nurture them. She was a large woman, not nearly as tall as her husband, but likely weighing more than him by far. She would have to struggle mightily to assume sufficient poundage to unseat the reigning queen of girth on the street, but she was unhealthily obese. Both of these neighbourhood women had youthful, pretty faces, and bright personalities. But whereas the woman too rotund to walk about much kept to her home, this one was a gadabout; her excess weight obviously did not anchor her to one spot.

The younger of the two boys was adopted, a child with special needs, a child who would have been normal had complications of birth not left him compromised for life. Reaching his potential, however, he has grasped beyond it. As the boys grew, the older brought home outstanding report cards from school. The younger, starting out in special care, devolved in the higher primary grades to a normal school stream. When he succumbed to frustration, or puzzled ire, teased by classmates, his "inappropriate" responses threatened tenure there.

When his older brother graduated high school as an Ontario Scholar and began attending university, the younger began high school and performed as best he could. By age nineteen he graduated, took up a series of service jobs with local shops whose owners did their best to employ him gainfully. In the neighbourhood he still 'hung out' with the small boys, who giggled and put him up to mischief. Which, when it occurred, resulted in his father paying a visit to the home of the children involved.

People had patience with the young man who, despite his intellectual challenges, was capable of holding his own in conversations, as though the (secular) homilies he spouted were original to himself and not the result of his ability to mimic what he had heard. His parents did not keep close tabs on him, he was encouraged to wander the streets, looking for people to speak with, for things to do, to amuse himself in any way possible. He might on occasion amble awkwardly into the ravine accompanying other resident-hikers.

The family had adopted two little white dogs as companion animals. The little dogs got on very well together, were occasionally walked on the street by mother and younger son. For the most part the little dogs were house pets and spent their outdoor time in the back garden. They were happy little creatures, excited to welcome strangers to the door, and to make their friendly acquaintance with them. The younger son, as he grew older himself, outgrew his fondness for the dogs, and left them to his mother.

As her boys grew older their mother looked for meaningful employment herself, feeling that with her life experiences she would be able to offer guidance to other mothers for whom the challenges of motherhood, the balancing of household work and the rigours of the workplace experience combined to make for a stressful work-life balance. She advertised herself as a motivational speaker, and used a workshop environment to teach and to motivate women who signed up for her services.

As a lifestyle coach, the mother did very well. Her self-confidence and ability to win the trust of her clients gained her an increasing clientele. She developed personal development programs for women who came to her for help in ordering their lives, and she worked one-on-one with those whose income permitted them to monopolize her services. She guided women in their business enterprise, as part of her field of personal development coach. In short, she did very well for herself.

Her business enterprise matched her husband's professional skills. Of their two boys, only one now requires their constant guidance. He is no longer attending school, no longer employed as a part-time worker at area supermarkets or fast-food outlets; he's been through them all. When economic times are tight, operating costs are slashed to the minimum allowable and he simply proved to be expendable.

He wanders the neighbourhood incessantly, his humour in balance, a lonely waif.

c. 2009 Rita Rosenfeld