If you had to describe your life in five places, which sites would you choose and why?Yesterday, I described my childhood home and what it meant to me. Today, I want to tell you about my home away from home.
North Battleford, Saskatchewan
I have to admit, when you think of a great place that impacted every moment of your life, North Battleford is not the place you normally go to first. It is a small city (two small cities, really) on the road to nowhere. It is a beautiful community with lots of greenery, a river flowing through it, and the worse options of restaurants in the province. I mean, unless Pizza Hut and A&W are your thing. Then you're golden.
For my family, North Battleford was the epicentre of our summers. But not so much the town itself. It was the little section of land off Airport Road where we grew up. Sharon Schools.
Originally grounds housing a bible school and orphanage, this quiet little community made up of old airplane hangers and pilot barracks holds church camps at least twice a year. My grandparents moved there in the 60s to take over supervising the orphanage and never left. Grandma stayed nearly 50 years until we had to move her to a care home last spring.
My mother grew up here. My grandparents adopted my two uncles and all but adopted my auntie. My grandpa built the hockey rink every winter and tended flowers every summer. Every hug my grandfather every gave me is here. Every piece of advice my grandma gave is here. My mother's childhood is here.
My family spent a lot of time there and it is where my heart feels at peace.
The church at Sharon Schools. Where my mom and dad got married.As I planned to write this piece, I looked through all my photos for pictures to show. I have none. I went online and found some a friend had taken and he graciously allowed me to use them here. Of course, he has none of my Grandparent's home, but he's looking through his files for me. Sometimes, you are in a place so long, you forget that you might want to see pictures of it in the future.
Every year for a weekend at Easter and a week in July, between 300 - 500 people arrive to go to church meetings. Everyone stays in the dorms that boast retro decor -- everything is from the 40s. Not much has changed except the mattresses are no longer stuffed with straw. We all go to church twice a day, eat together at the dining hall, play sports on one of the many areas dedicated to it, sit around the campfire, snack at the canteen, and soak up as much time with each other as possible.
The H building (it's built in the shape of an H -- clever) and the men's dorm.
Once I was too old for the dorm but not yet married (stupid old person biases on the importance of having a man in your life bollox) I returned to my grandma's home during those weeks. It was then I got to rekindle my relationship with Grandma. She has provided me with a lot of amusement, wonder, frustration and love.
The main road from the centre of the grounds looking west.
It is the home of my family. The home of my friends.
It is where I know I belong.
Please note: all photos used here have been genourously provided by my friend Dale. He's a good chap.
Second note: This stupid post deleted itself twice. The first time it was awesome. The second time it was almost finished. This last version will have to do or I am going to go postal.