Ma’ahin Ahmed
“You need to keep that… child-like innocence… you want to see the world around you with new eyes sometimes” – Patricia
Patricia excitedly considers her life after retirement as a clean slate; a chance to start over and do things that she missed when she was working full time. She likes to attend the Sunday morning productions by the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, to tend her garden, go on walks, and look at flowers. Most importantly she has her old companions—her books—in which she has always found a gratifying retreat; a good psychological thriller always strikes her fancy.
The article that follows is an attempt to capture the significant moments of Patricia’s childhood in Ireland, and how she moved to New Westminster. Additionally, the story shares a little bit of Patricia’s experience in psychiatric nurse training.
From Belfast to New Westminster
It was the late 1940’s and Christmas celebrations at Patricia’s childhood home in Belfast, Northern Ireland, were in full swing. One of her aunts had gift wrapped the turkey’s head to prank the children. There were gales of laughter as soon as the surprise was unwrapped and the merriment only grew as kids chased each other around the house with the turkey’s head passing from one hand to another. Little did they know that just a few years later they would be celebrating Christmas on the opposite sides of the Western Hemisphere. Yet what was once hardly imaginable, started sinking in as the new reality of Patricia’s life as she celebrated her 13th birthday with her mum and brother in 1953, on board a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. She was on her way from Belfast all the way to the Western end of Canada, to settle in New Westminster. Her father was waiting for them. He had gone ahead to prepare the family for a new life in Canada.
The question of why her parents chose to settle in New Westminster was, and remains to be, a mystery, since they had no connections in the city. However it was evident that life would not be the same anymore. Of the fairly large and close-knit family they had in Ireland, Patricia could only bring along fond memories with her to New Westminster. For a relatively shy adolescent the cultural transition to a North American life was gradual and challenging. Nonetheless, as months turned into years New Westminster eventually became home. During this time, many letters to and from Belfast helped retain valuable relationships, and connected Patricia’s family to their past. In fact some of those bonds remain to this day, albeit letters have now been replaced by telephone calls.
The beginning of a lifelong career
On a hot mid-summer day in 1958, the sun beamed at the vast stretch of gardens of the Essondale Hospital, an institute for mentally ill patients, when a bus came to a halt near a tuck shop. Patricia and her mother got off the bus, squinting their eyes; they looked around to grasp their surroundings. The patients, a motley crew dressed in all sorts of dress and garb from hats to overcoats, were roaming about the lawns and pathways. Her mother by her side, Patricia, somewhat nervously, started making her way towards the building where her interview, for a program in psychiatric nurse training, was to take place. As the two walked towards the buildings, the noise and yelling increased. Peeking at her mum from the corner of her eye, Patricia could tell that her mum just wanted to grab her arm and take the next bus back home. However, getting trained at the province’s largest mental health institute was too good an opportunity to let go, so her mum stuck by her side. Having been successful in her interview, Patricia started a new chapter of her life as a student in the Psychiatric Nursing Class of 1958-1960 at Essondale School of Psychiatric Nursing, which was re-named Riverview Hospital in the late 1960’s.
Now, sitting across from me, Patricia carefully lifts her graduation photo. She looks at her 20-year-old self, who is smiling with a bouquet of red roses in her hands, and she smiles back. Then we both travel back in time; it is early morning and we see the girl in the photo, rubbing her eyes, slowly coming out of bed. She puts on a starched and meticulously ironed blue tunic, pins on a stiff white collar and a little white bib. Then putting on a flawlessly polished pair of white shoes, she walks out, closing the door behind her; she is ready for the day. The rest of the day passes by in a flash as the trainees walk in and out of wards, checking in on patients, performing their regular duties, and jumping to attention as one or another doctor walks up to them. When the day ends they all walk back to their residences; tired from the day some of them are quiet and others are sharing stories of the day. The girl in the photo walks back into her room, and as she finally crawls into bed, Patricia and I come back from Essondale Hospital, and I see Patricia smiling at the thought of the challenging, yet very special two years in training that prepared her for a life long career in Psychiatric Nursing.