We just marked the third year since the passing of my favorite euchre partner, crossword puzzle help and fellow Jeopardy fan.
My mother, Mary Lou Belanger. She was a lot of fun, until you crossed her, then … watch out.
I saw and heard her speak her mind to many folks. One of the most memorable was when I was little and a staff member from the Department of Agriculture came for a visit. The man was there to give her grief.
You see, the department had just established new (and much needed) changes to the health code as it pertained to housing migrant workers. However, the needed upgrades were more than our small cherry farm checkbook could handle.
That didn’t do anything to dissuade a family of generations of migrants from making the trip north to our farm for the cherry harvest. So, when they arrived after dark one night, we told them they could spend the night at our farm with the idea that they could look for alternate accommodations.
About mid-morning the next day, as the migrant family was getting ready to head out, a man driving a standard government issued, 1970s sedan, pulled in the driveway. He got out of the car slowly and approached my mom, who was out in the yard. I can’t remember that much of him, but I do recall he resembled John Dunsworth, the Canadian actor who played Mr. Lahey on the cult classic “Trailer Park Boys.”
Rest in peace, John. I guess I must have been distracted by the black gloves he was wearing. Black gloves during the harvest season. A little strange.
And it was all well and good until the public servant got a little aggressive in tone and told my mother, in front of her wee ones, saying that he could throw her in jail.
I don’t remember exactly what mom said, but it included something about scaring her children with the threat of arrest just because she allowed a travel-weary family, a place to stay overnight.
Years passed. And every once in a while, I recall the encounter with the government staffer and laugh.
“Boy, I told him off good, Aim,” she said. “I know mama,” I said. My mom was feisty, which paired well with my dad, who was a little more even-keeled. I can’t recall ever hearing him tell someone off. He did a lot of listening but wasn’t afraid to chime in when my sister and I made unkind teenager comments about other people.
He’d say “A little Christian charity, girls.” This week has been crazy as Joe and I are preparing for a trip abroad. But it was made much easier working with others who have a positive attitude, a smile, as well as please and thank you.
I think my dad was onto something.
