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WebsiteAn Excerpt of Journey to a Better Land
I awoke to the melody of the music that was so familiar to my ears. Uncle Sandy was playing the violin...then the accordion... other adults were playing the spoons...mom, and whoever else wanted to join in with her, was singing. Singing those beautiful, old hymns in our French Canadian style. Our whole family was saturated with this music, and many nights were spent in this manner. I listened, hoping tonight would end with the same peacefulness I now felt. I knew dad was not enjoying the evening with them. He would go into another room and drink and watch TV. Actually, they’d all be drinking, but in the early evening they were mellow and happy. As the night wore on, and the drinking in both rooms continued, the relaxing music transformed into loud, angry voices. My fingers tightened on the blankets as I heard my dad emerge from the other room hollering and yelling. Like all the other nights, what started out warm and inviting, would end in terror for me and my brothers and sisters.