Our homes in Edmonton, by Joyce Burwash

Joyce Burwash reflects on the importance of having a place to call home.
\r\nDate: 1957

We moved back to Edmonton in 1957 when my husband was appointed to the University’s Geology Department. We had been away for five years. The first 3 of which were spent in Minneapolis living in a Qwanset hut, the facilities were in a separate washhouse a few steps away. By the time we left there, we had an infant and a toddler – our quarters were cozy enough, but too close for comfort!

On graduation, we packed up our few possessions and moved to Calgary, feeling as if we were suddenly [?]. Shell paid their employers twice a month. Our housing was a main floor of a bungalow, with others living in the basement. I never felt that I was really the mistress of my domain – although I tried valiantly to prevent my children from crying at night walking with their shoes on, or otherwise making their childish presence known to our downstairs neighbors.

This was a situation, which was soon to change. Ron was offered a teaching position at U. of A. working with his own mentor and doing the thing he loved.

Our first lodging here was an apartment, square, flimsy building otherwise occupied by adults. One Halloween night we moved to a house, a whole house, which had our name on what, to us, was a substantial mortgage. The children stomped about for a month or so noisily as they could. We could see the real pleasure they felt at being allowed to make as much noise as two rambunctious toddlers could. We could only smile and share their pleasure and the new found freedom. This small house, a store and ½ are still our home today. It has undergone upgrades and transformations, but still feels like out own security blanket. Through sabbatical travels and extended absences, it was our anchor. Our children grew and moved away, but on high days and holidays they return and settle in whether for a day, or a month, engaging family fun, emerging from family bereavements and making us stronger because they have an anchor we created after skating across the street and re-discovering old friends, old haunts.