Three Score and Ten, What Then?

by Peggy Mary E. Smith

  Of course, Murray and Mary Beth were the life of the party. They were walking by this time. All the other children had fun entertaining them, and everyone got a hoot out of watching them eat their birthday cake with their little hands. They made quite a sticky mess, but Ma didn’t seem to mind. She said it did her heart good to see everyone have such a good time after the past months of deep sadness.

  Winter settled in after that. It turned out to be a very cold blustery winter. There was lots of snow by Christmas. I didn’t go too far from home. Mostly the twins and I would just visit with Jed’s folks. It was too cold to take the twins into town by horse and cutter. Jed’s folks picked up anything I needed. Some days seemed pretty long.

  I do remember one particular day, I was looking out my back window and spotted a deer digging where my garden had been the past summer. I was pretty low on meat and had depended on Jed’s family for most of my food supplies. I decided to give hunting a try. I got Jed’s rifle out and loaded it. Then I snuck out the front door and peeked around the corner. The deer hadn’t heard me. My heart raced with excitement as I pulled the trigger. I put that deer down right there with one shot.

  Jed’s father come running up the driveway. He had heard the shot and wondered what all the ruckus was about. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Well, he laughed and then hugged me. He helped me drag it into the shed to gut it and skin it. I had never told him my hunting stories with Pa. As he was leaving, he gave me another hug and said, ‘Savannah Faye Harmon, you are quite the gal. I couldn’t be prouder.” Well, I shared that deer with Jed’s family, and it helped us all get through a long tough winter. Of course, Pa just smirked when I told him the story a few weeks later. And Ma, well, she just couldn’t get over the fact that I’d shot a gun and killed a deer.

  We were all grateful when the first signs of spring came along. It was nice to be able to take Murray and Mary Beth outside to get some fresh air. We visited Jed’s folks pretty much daily. They were busy in the sugar bush making maple syrup. Jed’s youngest sister watched the twins so I could give a hand. It brought back childhood memories of helping Pa make syrup. I had always loved doing that. Maple syrup was our first taste of springtime and provided us with a new sugar supply.

  This was the spring of 1917. Jed had been gone now for over two years. I received a letter from him in May. He had written it in March. He and Newt were still together. He never ever said very much about the goings on over there. He mostly commented on the news I sent him. He always asked about the twins and me and sent his love. He often spoke of the things he planned to do once he got home.

  The news we heard by April’s end sounded promising. The Germans had been pushed back at Vimy Ridge. Finally some progress. Maybe Jed and Newt would be home soon. I just kept thinking, if only they’d come home.

  Summer came and went once again. I hadn’t received a letter from Jed since May. Ma and Pa had gotten a letter from Newt back in July. He had been wounded at the battle of Vimy Ridge. When he was well enough to travel, he was being discharged and sent home. We were all excited about his letter. Finally, Newton would be coming home. But what about Jed? Why had there been no mention of Jed? Maybe they had gotten separated? I had to be hopeful. I kept writing Jed. I just hoped my letters got through.

  One Sunday evening in September, just after I had put the twins to bed, I saw Ma and Pa’s carriage coming up the drive. I saw a third person with them. At first I didn’t recognize him. Then I knew. It was Newt. My heart skipped a beat as I ran out to greet them. I could hardly contain my excitement. Newt was home.

  When the carriage pulled up to my house and stopped, my heart sank. Newt was crying. The look on Ma and Pa’s faces was that of pain, not excitement. I knew in that instant something was terribly wrong again. Newt climbed down off the wagon first. I could see that he had a letter in his hand. He walked to where I was standing and handed it to me. He said, “I’m sorry, Anna. I’m so terribly sorry. I surely didn’t want it to be this way.”

  I looked at the letter. It wasn’t from Jed, though, as I had hoped it would be. It was from the army. I just stood there for a minute, and looked at it. I was so afraid to open it. Part of me knew. I knew what it would say, and I didn’t want to read those words.

  I started to tremble. My hands were shaking so bad that it was a chore for me to open the envelope. I hesitated a minute, then I took the letter out and began to read it. It said,

  “Dear Mrs. Harmon,

  We are sorry to inform you that your husband, Mr. Jedidiah Harmon, has been killed in action. He died on April 9, 1917, in battle at Vimy Ridge.”

  My eyes were so full of tears that my vision was obscured. I couldn’t bear to read another word. I started shouting, “No. No. I can’t bear to hear those words. It can’t be so. This can’t be true. I won’t let it be. I love him. I can’t live without him. Jed can’t be dead. He just can’t be.” I dropped the letter and sank to my knees. I was sobbing uncontrollably. Newt picked me up in his arms and tried to console me, but there was just no way he could have. I was so stricken by grief. I was inconsolable!

  I was thinking in my head about the letter that I had received way back in May. It had been Jed’s last letter. He was already dead by the time I was reading those last words. He was dead. Never coming home. He would never see our babies. Our love was lost. Lost in battle, in a faraway land. My heart was broken. I felt like a knife had been stabbed right through my chest. It wouldn’t have hurt any more if that had been the case.

  My dream of Jed coming home was shattered. We would never be a happy family. His children would grow up without even having the chance to meet their father. They would never be able to know the wonderful man that he was. Jed would never hold his children. He would never even see their faces. He would never hold me again. He was gone. Why did fate deal us all such a terrible hand? Why? Why was the man I loved, so desperately, gone? Why Jed? Why?

  Those first weeks after I was informed of Jed’s death, I walked around almost in a daze. I could barely manage to care for Murray and Mary Beth. I felt like I was a ship lost in a storm at sea. I felt so disconnected. Everything that I had hoped for, longed for, prayed for, and dreamed of over the last two and a half years was over, gone, lost. Jed was dead. He would never return to me or our children. Part of me died, too.

  I wasn’t sure if I could bear to go on without him. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to. I had no idea how I would exist or carry on without him. I had no idea how I would ever provide for myself and our two beautiful children, all on my own, with no husband to help. How would I ever manage? What was to become of us?”

  I looked over at Beth and saw that she was crying. Our eyes met and she said, “Oh, Gran, that’s so very sad. My heart aches for you. I had no idea what all you went through. I knew that Jed had been killed in action in World War I, but I had no idea how harsh all the details were. You poor lady.” She comes over to me and gives me a hug. I’m not sure who was consoling who.

  I started to speak again, but my throat was dry and I choke. I clear my throat, and in a soft voice, almost a whisper, I said, “You know, Beth, I remember that day as if it were yesterday, even though it was such a long time ago. That pain has never really healed. Jedidiah Harmon was the love of my life. I can’t stop the tears from welling up in my eyes every time I think about it. The love we shared was so pure. He was so much a part of me. It was as if we completed each other.”

  Beth releases her embrace. “I’m okay, dear,” I reassure her,” It was a long time ago.” Beth sits back down. I take a deep breath, then continue, “I was such a young woman back then. I really didn’t have much life experience. I really didn’t have much at all, other than the house that Jed had built for us. I had no income to speak of, and those were tough times. I was left with two young children to rear on my own, and I had no idea how to do it.

  In time, though, I did learn to accept Jed’s death. I came to terms with it, anyways. I was eventually able to move
forward. I had to make a life for our children. Even to this day, though, I have always felt Murray and Mary Beth’s loss was far greater than mine. You see, I had had the privilege of knowing Jed. They lived their whole life without ever being able to share one minute with him.

  Jed died for a great cause; he was a fallen hero, but I think freedom’s cost is too high. Jed and Dalt were buried in Europe. They never came back to us. They didn’t make it home. Newt came home, but he was a broken man. The loss of Dalt and Jed, his injuries, and the perils of war were too big a burden for him to surpass. He may have survived, but he no longer knew how to live.”

  fate

  “There were a lot of changes that came about during the years of the First World War. Not only did it change my life and its direction significantly, but it also touched many others. Not just here at home, but across the country and around the world. There was such mass destruction in Europe. So many homes and buildings were demolished. Towns and communities were battered and torn. What a shame! So many loved ones were lost or permanently injured. There were so many casualties of war.

  Here at home the government implemented the War Measures Act. That is where income tax and sales tax initially began. Of course, it was only to be short-term in order to support the war effort and help pay off the huge debt Canada had accumulated financing the cause, but, as we know, it was never terminated. I guess we’re still paying.

  It was during these war years that we gals finally got the vote. Women were finally acknowledged to be Canadian citizens, so something good came out of the war. In 1917, Robert Borden, who was the Prime Minister at the time, passed a motion to allow women who were British subjects and were the wives, mothers, or sisters of soldiers the right to vote on their behalf. The next year, after he was re-elected, Borden passed a motion in parliament to give all women who were twenty-one years or older and British subjects the right the vote. Yes, I recall that day. It was history in the making.

  On November 11, 1918 World War I ended. It was said to be the war to end all wars. Germany had been defeated, and Europe’s freedom was secured. That’s all everyone talked about. I remember all the buzz and excitement everywhere. Many a mother and young lady shed tears of relief. Their young men were finally coming home.

  A year had passed since I had received the news of Jed’s death. I can’t say that time heals all wounds, but I can tell you that you have to learn to accept what you can’t change. I had come to realize that I had to live for my children. They deserved a happy life, and they were the purpose of my existence. I was their Ma and Pa.

  I was still living in our house with the twins. They had just turned three. I helped Jed’s folks on the farm as much as possible. They had been so good to the three of us. Jed’s death had been a huge blow to them as well. I think we had needed each other to help us all heal. Pa and Ma had wanted me and the twins to move back to their farm, but I couldn’t bear to take the twins away from Jed’s family. I received a small Dependents Pension from the government which helped some.

  As time passed, I realized that I was not alone. There were many other young women who had suffered the loss of their loved one in the war. Many of our neighbours lost sons, grandsons, brothers, nephews, and fathers. There was hardly a household in Canada and abroad that wasn’t touched by loss of some sort during the war.

  After the soldiers came home, there was a huge parade and celebration in town to honour them. There was also a dedication to honour those that had been lost in battle. We all went. They were honouring Dalt, Jed, and Newt, and so many others that we knew. I went with Jed’s family and met up with Ma and Pa and the rest of my family there. It was a special day to celebrate Newt’s homecoming and put some closure to our loss of Dalt and Jed. It was a heart-wrenching day. I cried tears of joy for all who had returned to us and tears of sadness for those that did not. Being surrounded by so many others going through the same situation gave me strength and inspiration.

  One of the fellows that made a point in finding me to offer his condolences was Jed’s friend, Royce Coalter. He hadn’t known of Jed’s demise until he had returned home a few days before. His mother had not wanted to mention the bad news to Royce while he was overseas for fear it would play on him in a detrimental fashion. He was taken aback by the news. He had lost a good friend.

  It sure surprised Royce to meet Murray and Mary Beth. He had known Jed and I’d had twins, but he didn’t realize how big they would be. He had left with Jed and my brothers almost four years ago. So very much had changed since that day.

  Royce had grown up with Jed. They had gone to the same school and became good friends. Royce had dropped by quite often to give Jed a hand with the construction of our house. Actually, it had been the Coalters that had invited the Harmons to the church picnic, where I had first met Jed, so Royce knew our story very well. It was comforting to know that Royce had made it home.

  The Coalter farm was only a mile down the road from the Harmon farm. After Royce returned home, he often stopped in on his way into town to see if we needed anything. I didn’t put too much thought into it as he always stopped at Jed’s folks, as well. He had been Jed’s friend, and I wrote it off to being neighbourly.

  Well, the weeks passed, and the months moved on, and the seasons changed. Another year passed. Come August, Jed’s folks thought that it would be nice to attend the big church picnic in town. We’d had a beautiful summer, and all the work was caught up. Everyone was in the mood to socialize and finally have some fun.

  This was the summer of 1920. I had turned twenty-three in January. Murray and Mary Beth were going on five in October. We had all settled into a quiet life at the Harmons’. Two of Jed’s sisters had married. They hadn’t moved very far off, though. One lived in town, and the other just a few miles away on the next concession.

  It was a beautiful sunny Sunday for the picnic, as I recall. Everyone’s spirits were high. We sure did visit with lots of folks. Many of my family were there and lots of friends we hadn’t seen for a while. I think it was the first time since Jed had left that I really had a good time. One of the people I ran into was Royce Coalter. He was all decked out in his Sunday best, looking pretty handsome. He was very chatty, almost flirtatious. Somehow things seemed different on this day. He paid special attention to Murray and Mary Beth. I remember thinking that it would be nice for little Murray to have a man to wrestle and romp with.

  Royce and I reminisced about the last church picnic we’d attended. It seemed like so long ago. Seven years had passed since then. That was the day Jed and I had met. I had never realized it, but Royce admitted that I had caught his eye that day as well. He had seen that Jed was smitten with me, so out of respect for their friendship, he had kept quiet. After all, it had been me who made the first advance to meet Jed. Royce said he knew he didn’t have a chance.

  I was a little taken aback when Royce out and asked me if I had given any thought to getting married again. He and Jed had been real good friends, and he said that he knew Jed would want me to find someone else and be happy. He suggested that Murray needed a father’s guidance growing up and that I deserved to have a husband to take care of me and little Mary Beth. He said that he only asked because he was my friend, too, and cared about our welfare.

  I remember thinking how his question had caught me off guard. I felt that he was being a little bold, to be honest. I told Royce that as lonesome as I was sometimes, I hadn’t put much thought into looking for another man to take Jed’s place. I’d had the good fortune to marry the man of my dreams and the love of my life. Maybe someday someone else would come along, but for now I was content living in the house Jed had built for us. Royce said no more on the subject, but I knew he wanted to say something else. There was a look in his eyes. I couldn’t pinpoint it then, but I knew he wanted to say more.

  A couple of weeks went by after the picnic before I saw Royce again. I was out working in the garden with Jed’s mother, and the twins were running around outside
playing. Royce came riding in and said he was wanting to talk to Mr. Harmon. Jed’s Ma pointed him in the right direction and we carried on. That evening, after the twins were in bed, I was out sitting on the front porch when Jed’s Pa came along. I knew right away he had something on his mind to talk about. He was in a serious mood. Usually he was more jovial.

  Well, I guess Royce had stopped by that morning to talk to Mr. Harmon about me. Apparently, Jed had made Royce promise him that if something were to happen, Royce would take care of me. Royce had reassured Jed that he would and wanted Mr. Harmon’s permission to ask for my hand in marriage should the time ever present itself. Jed’s Pa said he and the Mrs. had discussed the subject thoroughly. They felt that if anyone would make a good Pa to Murray and Mary Beth, Royce Coalter was a good man, and would be their first choice. They thought that I might want to consider Royce’s intentions, for the twin’s sake as well as my own. It was time for me to move forward and find happiness again. They knew how much I loved Jed, but they felt that Jed would want that for me, too. He just thought that it was only fair for me to know how they felt and what was on Royce’s mind.

  Well, at first I was a little stunned. I thought Royce was a dear friend and I loved him for that, but marriage wasn’t really on my mind. The more I thought about it, things started to get clearer. That day at the picnic, Royce had wanted to say something. I had put him off. Now I knew what he was thinking and what he was getting at. I hoped that I hadn’t hurt his feelings. I needed to talk to him. The next day I left the twins with their grandmother and rode over to see Royce. We had us a long chat. It did us both good to just talk and let each other know how we really felt.