Quiet Steadiness Saturday, 21st July 1984
Signing the register with the Rev. Jim Burn*
Friendship Room
Zion Wexford United Church

Quiet Steadiness

Every now and then, a friend makes an observation that touches my heart, and it is always very sweet and much-appreciated.  In those moments, my emotions are stirred because the words reflect that friend’s kindness or understanding, or love or astuteness.  I always feel happy to have been seen or heard or understood.  

A couple of months ago, a friend and mentor described the love shared by Cam and I as “quiet steadiness”:

One day...can you write a post about Pam and Cam and how you came to be?? I love the quiet steadiness of your love story and the life you've made. But I want to learn more!!!

Daft as it may be - it brought tears to my eyes because, not only is it very true, but her comment more perfectly defined our love and our life than I’d ever have been able to articulate myself.  She asked for more details, but I’ve struggled with this request - we didn’t exactly have a wildly romantic or epic courtship but…

Today marks our thirty-ninth anniversary and this post is for Cam with much love.  The quiet steadiness of your love makes all things possible.  This post is also for Kerry whom I adore to bits and pieces.

Here goes…

Switching programmes (from coop to mainstream) in one’s last year of uni is utter disaster!  I know.  That’s what I did.  I finished my final year, 1.5 credits shy of my degree.  There were other factors involved, but by May of 1978, I was completely spent, and finished - for the time being - with higher education and U of T.  My dear old dad was not going to have me loafing about the house so he quickly organised a job for me at his bank, in the then Personnel Department.  He thought a year of working nine to five might be all the encouragement I needed to go back to school.

In those days, on every floor in the bank’s head office at Commerce Court, there were coffee lounges, staffed by coffee ladies.  We’d buy a sheet of tickets at personnel banking (on the concourse level) and redeem one for each cuppa.  The cups were in two pieces, a rigid plastic ‘frame’ with a handle plus a disposable, conical, plastic cup ‘liner’ that held, to the brim, almost six ounces - don’t tarry, being the obvious message.  Still, break time was always fun time and I loved chatting with and getting to know the other folks on my floor.  

One day, at morning coffee, my sweet friend Vonnie (nine months pregnant at the time) was moaning about how she couldn’t get comfortable and how she was worried about the pain of birthing the “enormous whale” in her belly.  Out of nowhere came this rich, baritone voice, chiming in with “Oh, Vonnie, don’t worry, it’s just like having a big poop.”  Such was my first meeting with Cameron. I mean!  Wouldn’t you, too, have been immediately smitten?  

The thing is, I wasn’t.  But in the following weeks and months I got to know Cam much better; our break and lunch times were in sync, so we spent a lot of time together.  We both loved going out for a walk after our lunch, during which interludes we chatted non-stop.  I grew to respect, like and admire Cam very much and a lovely friendship began to bloom.  Also blossoming was a deep and abiding trust without which, I firmly believe, there could never have been love for each other.  The two go hand-in-hand.

In those days our Christmas celebrations were always big, noisy, happy affairs combining Mum’s two sisters’ families with ours.  That year, my first in the bank, Cam was to be alone on Christmas Day so, despite him knowing no one but Mum and Dad, I asked them if I could please invite him to our dinner (Auntie Jo’s turn that year).  Mum and Dad immediately said yes, conditionally - I had to get permission from Auntie Jo and Uncle Allen first.  Auntie Jo was a dear and, without hesitation, said yes, that Cam was absolutely welcome.  Uncle Allen, though…. 

Phew, that man was a world-class tease!  ‘Though I’d stipulated that Cam was merely a friend, that there was no romantic connection, Uncle Allen - spontaneously - came up with one “platonic” joke after another.  I’m sure my face was as red as Santa’s suit!  Joking aside, they promised to make Cam feel at home and they certainly did that.  

Eventually we had our first real date, a day-long road trip.  We drove first to Cam’s parents home in Grimsby to check things out as Cam had promised to do (they were wintering in Florida) and from there we continued to Niagara to see the frozen falls.   Ohmigosh was I ever nervous - if this romance didn’t work out, I was about to blow up a perfectly lovely friendship!  I think I babbled away the entire time.  It’s a miracle there was a second date.

But there was, and a third, and a fourth, and eventually a wedding - small, intimate and perfect (flower-child garb notwithstanding).  

My dad immediately liked Cam.  A lot.  The two had almost nothing in common and their two personalities couldn’t possibly have been more different.  Still, he quickly became very fond of Cam and happily gave his blessing to our relationship.  I was desolated that my Dad couldn’t walk me down the aisle but, knowing we had his heartfelt support made that lonely walk more bearable.  

Despite their differences, Dad and Cam bonded over a shared love of hockey which was also the biggest bone of contention between them.  Dad loved the Leafs, was a die-hard fan, and he hated the Canadiens.  Cam on the other hand…  Bringing a Habs fan into the fold was considered treason (mine) and as for the Montreal fan who hated the Leafs (Cam), Dad felt there was no hope for the lad.  All of this, of course, in good fun.  Sort of. 

Leaf games - attending and watching - were a huge part of our courtship.  Dad had a half share of a pair of season’s tickets (third row greens - does anyone remember Maple Leaf Gardens?).  When Cam came into our lives, Dad splurged on a second half pair of season’s tickets from a friend in our row of greens.  The second set was north blues, second row.  With some careful finagling and trading, each year we managed to closely sync both pairs so that the four of us could go to the games together. During the first intermission we’d all meet up for an ice cream sandwich and during the second intermission we’d often switch seats (the north seats offered a very different perspective on the game).  Many weeks, we’d be at both Wednesday and Saturday games making hockey an appreciable part of our social lives.  I’m so happy and grateful that we all shared this great enjoyment, and spent all this happy time together, before Daddy died. 

Steadiness is Cam in a nutshell.  Steady, patient, modest, hardworking, capable, and kind.  His steadiness has made me steadier.  He is a calm, grounding, secure presence with - at times - a protective fierceness. Whenever something goes wrong, whenever I’m sad or scared, or hurting, I turn to Cam, my solace. I instinctively curve my hand into his and instantly, I’m in my safe space.

Looking back, the rapport, affection, devotion and joy of our long friendship proved to be the perfect foundation for marriage, and enabled us to very easily manoeuvre from a platonic to a romantic relationship.  It is upon those pillars we’ve been able to build this comfortable and modest life imbued with happiness and contentment, for which I’m profoundly grateful.  

Cam - You were my first true love.  You are my last love.  Happy Anniversary!  

’Til next time, y’all…

*For all you N'umberlanders: Rev. Burn is the father of physio-therapist extraordinaire Kevin Burn at NHH, aka Captain Polar Dip.