Northern Wildflower

by Catherine Lafferty

  I was so mad at Trevor for making me think that something bad happened to River. All I could think was that River went overboard. “What’s wrong with you? Why would you joke like that?” I asked. It turned out they had a great time out on the ocean, but it still wasn’t enough to win River over. Poor Trevor was sick in bed for a week afterward with vertigo. He told me that, at one point, they ended up way too far out on the ocean and he got so turned around that he didn’t know which way the shore was. He knew they were in trouble because the waves were getting bigger and he was surprised that they made it back in one piece without capsizing.

  I knew it would take time for Trevor to gain the respect of River but, after a while, I began to get a bit impatient with Trevor because we had been together for almost a year and I wanted to take the next step in the relationship. In my experience, people usually “shack up” after a few months — sometimes weeks — so I didn’t think it was a big adjustment moving in together after a year. But he wasn’t ready or willing to make changes in his life to include me and the kids in it. He was afraid of the commitment.

  I asked that we start making plans to move in together, but he just wouldn’t talk about the subject or dodged it whenever I brought it up in conversation. He was happy living with his brother and couldn’t see how it would work if the kids and I moved in.

  Trevor continued to show me his love and affection by buying me things to try to keep me from straying. He bought me a beautiful crystal bracelet and gave it to me one day in the parking lot of a fancy yacht club restaurant, where we would go and have brunch while he talked about his plan of buying a nice boat someday. I tried the bracelet on, but it didn’t fit. It was too small and, as we drove away, he accidently ran over a pigeon. I took it as a sign.

  Trevor even went as far as buying me a cat, without telling me. He was driving to my house one day to visit, when I heard something meowing over the phone in the background. I had told him in a side conversation once about how I would love to have a kitten, but I didn’t think he would take me seriously. He came over one day with a Siamese cat. Poor River was allergic to it, and the cat had to be brought back to the pet store. Trevor packed the cat up in its little carry-on kennel and walked out of the apartment with his head down, looking like the Cat in the Hat.

  After the spa that I was working in shut down because of poor management, I started working in the kitchen at a navy base on the edge of the ocean. My day began at four in the morning, but I didn’t complain because finding work was difficult and I had to take what I could get. It paid better than my security guard stint and the spa combined, but even though I was busting my butt going to school and working, I was still not making ends meet. Something needed to give. I was growing tired of having to live in a cramped, one-bedroom apartment and needed to make a move.

  Since Trevor wasn’t changing his mind about taking the next step in our relationship, I decided to move into a small, two-bedroom basement apartment next to a park in an older part of town, so that the kids and I could have more room. The place was crawling with spiders, and the ceilings were so low that Trevor had to duck to walk around in it. He would hit his head on some of the lower sections of the ceiling from time to time, so when he came to visit we would usually go sit in the park or take his precious dog — his pride and joy — for a walk. I started to wonder if he loved that dog more than me, and I began to resent it. I couldn’t believe I was jealous of a dog, but the dog got more attention from Trevor than I did. It got to snuggle with Trevor at night, and I didn’t. Trevor and I began to argue a lot. Our stagnant situation was the cause for most of our arguments. I was growing impatient with him. His family was not very keen on him being with me either, and I assumed it had something to do with the fact that I was still technically married and an Indigenous mother of two from way up North.

  When I first met his family, they were very accepting of me. They thought that I was Parisian and his dad was happy that his son had finally met a nice girl. He was overly welcoming when I came to visit. Shortly after they found out my circumstances, they stopped extending the invite for me to come to their family dinners. I didn’t let that bother me too much, and Trevor played it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but I should have known it was the beginning of the end. Once your family doesn’t like the person you are dating, it’s pretty much game over from then on.

  I had to think realistically about my relationship with Trevor and stop thinking with my heart over everything else. I knew that my days in the South were limited because I was soon going to have to start paying back my student loans, and I needed to start thinking seriously about the future. I was especially having a hard time finding a decent-paying job; even with my bachelor’s degree, I was considered a dime a dozen. I knew that, if I went back to Yellowknife, I could get a good-paying job and that possibility was always in the back of my mind. The North was calling me home, whether I liked it or not.

  When I told Trevor that I was at a crossroads and needed him to make up his mind about the next step in our relationship, I knew that it could either make us or break us. “If we don’t move in together soon, I have to go back to Yellowknife,” I said. It sounded like a threat, and I really didn’t want to move back. I loved our little piece of paradise on the island and didn’t want to leave. It would be like admitting defeat, and I have never been a quitter – but the only reason I was staying was Trevor, and it wasn’t enough.

  This little ultimatum turned out to be perfect timing, or so I thought. Trevor said that he might have found a place for us and brought me to have a look. The home was beautiful. He walked me through the bones of the house and, although it was still under construction, it had all the bells and whistles. It even had a fully equipped basement suite with a kitchen and washroom. It was perfect. A dream come true.

  Finally, Trevor and I could start our lives together. When I asked Trevor what his brother was going to do once he moved out, he just assumed I had already known what the plan was. His brother was going to also live in the house with us, so of course I automatically thought that his brother would live in the basement suite. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The entire time, his plan was that his brother would live in the top part of the house with him, while the kids and I rented out the basement suite for a cheap price. Essentially, he would be my landlord. I thought he was joking and trying to get a rise out of me. I laughed at him over the phone after he told me and said, “You’re kidding, right?” But there was silence on the other end. He couldn’t understand why I had a problem with his proposal. He didn’t see how degrading it sounded to me. He thought I was being ungrateful. “Why are you always like this?” he asked. I told him that there would be no way that I would rent a basement suite off him while he and his brother lived upstairs as my landlords, only for him to come down and visit me when he felt like it or invite me up when it was ideal for him.

  I felt like the toy that he played with whenever it was convenient for him, and he thought he could just put me back in the toy box when he was done. I wasn’t going to be his doll anymore. That was the breaking point for me, and I knew what I needed to do. I made the difficult decision to end things with Trevor. He didn’t exactly try reconciling with me either, which made my decision that much easier. I was going home.

  Chapter 12

  I BOOKED THE CHEAPEST FLIGHTS BACK to Yellowknife I could find to fly the kids home while I figured out my plan of action. I had to put my heartbreak aside and focus all my attention on my future, but I was torn about having to say goodbye to the island. I wasn’t sure if I was more upset about my breakup with Trevor or my breakup with the island. I thought for sure I would stay there forever, but the North has always been there for me, unyielding, steadfast and strong.

  Trevor called when it was too late to change my mind. It always took him a long time to get around to calling me after an argument. “I miss you,” he said. He asked me to come over to visit him and talk things over, bu
t I said, “Trevor, I’m gone.” He didn’t believe me when I told him I was sitting in the airport waiting for my flight. “Sure, sure,” he said, until he heard my flight number being called over the loud speakers and I told him, “I have to go.” He thought that, all that time, I was just full of empty threats, and my drastic move left him shocked.

  After the breakup, I learned that love is a finicky thing. It’s tricky and messy and not for everyone. Maybe that’s why there are so many lonely people in the world and even those who are with partners can still be lonely. More people need to learn to be happy on their own without feeling the need to be in a relationship or to having to settle, because it only ends up hurting the other person in the end if their intentions aren’t true. I truly believe that, if you are content with yourself, love will find you; you don’t have to go looking for it and it won’t give up on you if you treat it with care and it is reciprocated. If there is one thing I need in this life, it is to be able to completely trust the person I’m with. I’ve learned that honesty and respect are hard to find in a relationship, but I won’t settle for anything less, even if that means I will be alone. I know that no one is perfect, but red flags and warnings signs are there for a reason and, try as you will to deny them, they are relentless and will eventually come to full light — as I have come to know.

  I flew back to the island to get my car after dropping the kids off in Yellowknife. Having to drive it all the way back home was not something I was looking forward to, but I had no other choice. My car was so jam packed with stuff that I couldn’t see out the back window. My avocado plant was seated in the passenger side; I just couldn’t stand to part with it because the kids and I had planted it together and we were proud of how green our thumbs were. Every time I hit a bump on the highway my stuff in the back seat would bounce, including my grandma's heavy cast iron pan that I haphazardly placed behind my seat, which came close to knocking me out a few times.

  When I got back to Yellowknife, I rented a small, two-bedroom basement suite. I just couldn’t get away from the basement suites, but at least this one was free of spiders and low ceilings. In Yellowknife, it is so hard to find a decent rental and the housing market rents are extremely high. I ended up paying double what I paid on the island, and I could hear the people upstairs talking over dinner because their kitchen was right above our entryway and their voices echoed through the house.

  I had the hardest time finding a job when I got back. I was lucky if I even got a call back for an interview. I couldn’t understand why the doors weren’t opening for me. I went above and beyond, out of my comfort zone, to get an education. I travelled away from home and took out a large loan to pay for my future and the future of my children. I wanted them to have what I didn’t have growing up. I wanted to be a strong light in their life — to prove to them that you can do anything you put your mind and heart to if you believe and you are driven — but I still felt like I had failed somehow. I was always told that educated Indigenous northerners were few and far between in the North and that, if I were to get a higher education, I would find a job easily. But it was not so. I felt like everything I had striven for was in vain. It was all a joke. A false advertisement that I had bought into. There were no awards, no pats on the back or kind words of recognition that I thought I would receive. I didn’t even have a chance to celebrate with my classmates at my convocation because the awards ceremony was a year after my graduation date and, by then, I was back in Yellowknife barely able to pay my rent and couldn’t afford to travel. So, things didn’t exactly play out like I had dreamed. There was no happily ever after. No finish line. As exhausted as I was, though, I had to keep going.

  I finally got a job, two months after returning to Yellowknife after much persistence. Even though it was an entry-level job that was below my educational experience, I was relieved to be working and making money. After two years in the basement suite, I decided to move out and into a townhome. It seemed like the right thing to do because there would be more room for us. I should have known that it was a bad idea. I didn’t budget properly, and the townhome was even more expensive. I realized quickly that I was house broke. After one month, I made the very difficult decision to move in with my mom and stepdad with a plan to save up enough money to buy a house.

  ***

  FOR THE NEXT THREE MONTHS, the kids and I lived in the back of my mom’s two-bedroom trailer with our entire lives, including our pets, stuffed into one small bedroom where there was nothing more than a foot of old carpet to maneuver on.

  We hid in the back room of the trailer and kept as quiet as we could every time one of the landlords came over, because if they found out we were staying there, they might have hiked up the rent. We were overcrowded, but it was our only option for getting ahead.

  My plan was less than ideal, but we sucked it up and lived like sardines for the next three months so I could save most of my earnings to put toward a down payment on a house. The kids and I were used to living in close quarters and didn’t mind it. Besides, knowing that we were doing this with an end goal in sight made things even easier. When an affordable place became available on the market, I had to jump at the opportunity. At that time, I didn’t have enough money saved up to buy the house I really wanted, but I was still able to save up enough money to make a down payment on a trailer and that was going to have to do.

  At first, I felt too proud to even consider living in a trailer, but my humble beginnings reminded me that having material things was not important. I recalled my years growing up and reminded myself that I had come such a long way from where I started, and being a homeowner, even if it was just a trailer, was an exceptional accomplishment. After living in one-bedroom apartments and low-cost housing most of my life, having a place to truly call home was a dream come true. I’ve moved around so much in my life, but the one thing I know for sure is that a home is where your loved ones are and where you can find comfort, happiness, peace and love. A home is not a large, immaculate, expensive, empty house with fancy furniture. Home is what you make it, and when River, Brooke and I moved into our little trailer, it suited us just fine. As long as we were healthy, happy, safe and loved then we could conquer anything.

  As a new homeowner, I soon realized that, when something was broken, I had to fix it. I couldn’t call the landlord and expect them to come fix the furnace and repair the leaky roof; it was all on me. If I had it my way, I would live the way my grandmother did, off the grid, immersed in nature and living by our own rules, our own Indigenous laws and governance, our own ways of being. I know that it is coming. A full circle is forming.

  When I look back on how far I have come, I feel that I can cope with life’s everyday difficulties with a little more grace. I have my good and bad days, but I continue to make a constant effort and push myself to be better. By pushing myself and going after my dreams, I have changed the course of my life, and it all started with getting an education.

  I learned along the way that success is not about how smart you are or how much you can attain. Many people think that success comes after they accomplish something that they have striven toward, but it is far from it. The constant pursuit of achievement never ends. Once you’ve surpassed your own personal expectations, you make new ones so that there is constant growth. I take risks and go after my aspirations, and that’s what makes all the difference. It took me over a decade to get to the point where I feel I can finally look back and see that I have come a long way.

  From the moment I started on my journey toward a higher education and a better life for myself and my children, it hasn’t been easy. I didn’t realize until later on that I needed to learn how to be happy while going after my dreams, because that is what matters. Enjoying the winding road while you are on it, acknowledging the time it will take to reach your destination, forgiving yourself when you fail and not giving up when times get tough are what is important. Knowing that there are amazing feats to look forward t
o and new horizons to reach is what keeps me going. Most importantly, I have learned that there is a lot of work to be done to ensure that Indigenous people in this country are treated with respect and dignity and that is what gets me up in the morning. I fight every day in big and small ways to break down the systems that have blinded us and confined us. I feel that I am fighting the good fight, the only fight left worth fighting.

  I faced many barriers along my journey and they are mostly because I am an Indigenous single mother trying to make a life for myself and my children in a world that still does not accept us. I used to try to fit into the mould of modern day society, own a nice home, an expensive car, make and save lots of money. But I was constantly chasing something that would never make me truly happy and it’s because I didn’t know any better. I used to get jealous when I saw other people that seemed to have it all. Now I know better. Now I know that, my entire life, I had something more powerful than money could ever buy. I carried the Dene values and traditions of my ancestors within me, quietly guiding me on my journey, waiting to be discovered. I am glad I never fit into the mould. Instead of buying into the dream of what I was told my life is supposed to look like, I use my education as a weapon for change. I am now in a position to help generate awareness on the systemic racism against Indigenous people in Canada that still drives our nation, and I am on a mission to empower Indigenous people to gain back their identity. I am starting the conversation about decolonization in my home with my children. I’m trying to instill in them a sense of pride in who they are and where they come from. I want them to speak their language and immerse themselves in their culture. I want them to be respected for who they are. My job as their mother is to try and make the world a little bit safer, a little bit kinder, a more welcoming place for them to live in. To give them the freedom to test the limits, challenge those who tell them they can’t and give them the hope and the courage they need to dream up new possibilities.