Okay, so I have been living in sin for thirty-seven years. Reading the form letter, it appeared to me that whoever has been researching our case was researching the years 1945 - 1949. This would mean that the bride and groom in question were married either before conception or some where from birth to two years of age. The Ministry involved has been sent a sharp letter from Rob. When he recorded that I own not a single piece of official paper in my birth name, except for my birth certificate, I felt a little sad.
That led me to consider how, if we had been married just a few short years later, I would have kept my birth name. In 1967 it wasn't done. I ponder whether it would be worth my going back to my liltingly musical, so called 'maiden' name. Or would this add further to my identity issues? But then, if we are not registered as being married, are all my documents in a false name? Am I still Connie Ballantine and do I really have the option of remaining so?
The really scarey thing is that the United States government seems to have more information about us than our own government!!!!! In crossing the border 18 months ago, my husband was questioned about his place of birth, his High School and Universities, professions and so on. The AMERICAN BORDER GUARDS appeared to have this information in their computers, at their finger tips. WHY DOES THE CANADIAN GOVERNMENT HAVE SUCH A DIFFICULTY WITH I.T.?
Anyway, I am attempting to gain confidence by improving my computer and blogger skills. I'm blogging family pictures for those who know me well. I have to do this over and over in order to get the skill down. And Deb Sawyer has given me info to help me with my Links section. So I'll be fiddling around with these tasks. This should distract me from the fact that my identity seems foggy.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Living In Sin For Thirty-Seven Years!!!
Okay, so we were babies. That means that there are still many people living who were present at the ceremony on October 14, 1967. If you are one of these, or anyone else having any knowledge whatsoever of this event, will you please register your assent as a comment. A mere, "Yes" will suffice. Some of you will remember the festivities quite well.
The bride was slim in an off-white slubbed linen gown of medieval simplicity. When she spoke, it was with the voice of a maid. The groom was handsomely boyish, exuberant and tall in formal morning dress. He carried himself with the charm and grace of Robin Hood, which may also account for the fact that he nearly arrived at the church sans shoes. The officiant, a serio-comic figure of Friar Tuck proportions and baldness, was suffering from a bilious attack. In severe pain, sweating profusely, but otherwise masking his discomfort for the sake of his young friends, he presided over the service with dignity. There was a distinct odour of sanctity about the vows. There were times in ensuing years, that the couple wished the Friar had omitted his prayer asking God not to spare them suffering so that they might be compassionate. But the marriage 'took.'
Several lifetimes passed. The groom, applying for a pension, is told to produce a marriage certificate in order to assign beneficiary rights to the bride of his youth. Fourteen moves, two children, two dogs, two cats, two hamsters, a thousand clean-outs, a flood, a fire and the marriage certificate is no where to be found. A quest is initiated.
The church in Windsor, Ontario has been amalgamated. No records exist for 1967. Church archives in Toronto have no records of any marriage solemnized in that church from the years 1960 - 1972. And the pension will be witheld unless Robin Hood can establish the legality of his marriage. He is told to say he has been LIVING COMMON LAW FOR THIRTY-SIX YEARS and furthermore to PERJURE himself in front of a Justice of the Peace in this respect! Anyone knowing Rob will know how impossible this will be for him. He himself has conducted dozens of weddings over the years. What would this do to his credibility? Furthermore, he is told that he cannot SWEAR to the validity of his marriage in front of a Justice, even though this is the TRUTH.
Many phone calls and letters later, it is allowed that a senior offical of the Church may confirm by letter that the marriage took place. This is graciously done. The pension is granted and the aging honeymooners decide to apply to the government for a copy of their original certificate.
More than a year passes in which the officials in Thunder Bay do not cash the cheque for the copy. Nor do Robin and Marian hear anything at all from the Registry. From time to time, they think of their request, lost somewhere in bureaucracy. A feeling of unease arises. This intensifies when Marian is told that her SIN card cannot be replaced unless she produces a marriage certificate. The government has accepted her income tax for thirty-seven years in her married name. Her post secondary degrees were granted in this name. Her children were registered under this family name. If she is not legitimately married, she wants her taxes back!
Today a letter arrived from the Office of the Registrar General indicating that no record of this marriage exists. What could this mean? They are each free to marry another??? Legally yes. Morally no.
If the wedding described above seems real enough to you and not a mere dream, please indicate this in the comments. Your affirmation might just release Robin Hood and Maid Marian from their present nightmare. Maid Marian, in particular, is suffering a severe identity crisis.
The bride was slim in an off-white slubbed linen gown of medieval simplicity. When she spoke, it was with the voice of a maid. The groom was handsomely boyish, exuberant and tall in formal morning dress. He carried himself with the charm and grace of Robin Hood, which may also account for the fact that he nearly arrived at the church sans shoes. The officiant, a serio-comic figure of Friar Tuck proportions and baldness, was suffering from a bilious attack. In severe pain, sweating profusely, but otherwise masking his discomfort for the sake of his young friends, he presided over the service with dignity. There was a distinct odour of sanctity about the vows. There were times in ensuing years, that the couple wished the Friar had omitted his prayer asking God not to spare them suffering so that they might be compassionate. But the marriage 'took.'
Several lifetimes passed. The groom, applying for a pension, is told to produce a marriage certificate in order to assign beneficiary rights to the bride of his youth. Fourteen moves, two children, two dogs, two cats, two hamsters, a thousand clean-outs, a flood, a fire and the marriage certificate is no where to be found. A quest is initiated.
The church in Windsor, Ontario has been amalgamated. No records exist for 1967. Church archives in Toronto have no records of any marriage solemnized in that church from the years 1960 - 1972. And the pension will be witheld unless Robin Hood can establish the legality of his marriage. He is told to say he has been LIVING COMMON LAW FOR THIRTY-SIX YEARS and furthermore to PERJURE himself in front of a Justice of the Peace in this respect! Anyone knowing Rob will know how impossible this will be for him. He himself has conducted dozens of weddings over the years. What would this do to his credibility? Furthermore, he is told that he cannot SWEAR to the validity of his marriage in front of a Justice, even though this is the TRUTH.
Many phone calls and letters later, it is allowed that a senior offical of the Church may confirm by letter that the marriage took place. This is graciously done. The pension is granted and the aging honeymooners decide to apply to the government for a copy of their original certificate.
More than a year passes in which the officials in Thunder Bay do not cash the cheque for the copy. Nor do Robin and Marian hear anything at all from the Registry. From time to time, they think of their request, lost somewhere in bureaucracy. A feeling of unease arises. This intensifies when Marian is told that her SIN card cannot be replaced unless she produces a marriage certificate. The government has accepted her income tax for thirty-seven years in her married name. Her post secondary degrees were granted in this name. Her children were registered under this family name. If she is not legitimately married, she wants her taxes back!
Today a letter arrived from the Office of the Registrar General indicating that no record of this marriage exists. What could this mean? They are each free to marry another??? Legally yes. Morally no.
If the wedding described above seems real enough to you and not a mere dream, please indicate this in the comments. Your affirmation might just release Robin Hood and Maid Marian from their present nightmare. Maid Marian, in particular, is suffering a severe identity crisis.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Holding in Prayer
Spencer stretches,
accepting love,
long limbed,
arms round my neck,
feet past my knee.
Gives butterfly kisses.
Rachael sits by my side,
practicing grown-up independence,
then clings coyly
and hides her head
at the hint of strangers.
Robbie smiles at his Papa’s voice.
He’d let us hold his babyself all day.
Sometimes we do.
Other children. Other times.
My own children when they were young,
growing in my heart.
The special ones I lift from a distance,
offering a surrogate mother’s prayers.
Jude who died.
Kaitlyn with leukemia.
Healthy Matthew,
tucked under a paternal arm.
And Audrey,
named for a Nana gone to heaven.
My own mother holds the infants
becoming once more herself,
nurturing generations.
Time doesn’t matter, nor language, nor infirmity.
Later, she falls asleep
like a child herself,
in my arms
on her narrow bed.
She stirs and wakens slowly
as if we had forever.
One day, we will.
Shall we hold each other in Godspace,
kindred and friend,
in God’s place?
Shall we gentle all little children with our prayers?
accepting love,
long limbed,
arms round my neck,
feet past my knee.
Gives butterfly kisses.
Rachael sits by my side,
practicing grown-up independence,
then clings coyly
and hides her head
at the hint of strangers.
Robbie smiles at his Papa’s voice.
He’d let us hold his babyself all day.
Sometimes we do.
Other children. Other times.
My own children when they were young,
growing in my heart.
The special ones I lift from a distance,
offering a surrogate mother’s prayers.
Jude who died.
Kaitlyn with leukemia.
Healthy Matthew,
tucked under a paternal arm.
And Audrey,
named for a Nana gone to heaven.
My own mother holds the infants
becoming once more herself,
nurturing generations.
Time doesn’t matter, nor language, nor infirmity.
Later, she falls asleep
like a child herself,
in my arms
on her narrow bed.
She stirs and wakens slowly
as if we had forever.
One day, we will.
Shall we hold each other in Godspace,
kindred and friend,
in God’s place?
Shall we gentle all little children with our prayers?
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Eaten Posts
My computer has eaten two different posts today.
I'm miffed.
Just checked and it hasn't eaten this one. So insignificant. Neither profound nor beautiful or even silly. Think I'll publish.
I'm miffed.
Just checked and it hasn't eaten this one. So insignificant. Neither profound nor beautiful or even silly. Think I'll publish.
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