Tags : None


A Mother's Sorrow, by Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe

image




A MOTHER'S SORROW

Remembering a special mother and grandmother on Mother's Day

by, Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe©copyright, all rights reserved


I read the words on a paper my brother sent to me and I was stunned. I wondered how, at the age of 55 years, I had not known all of this. I knew my father, Stephen Richard Jarvis, was a WWII Veteran, having served in the British Royal Navy from September 1939 to 1945. But many things that haunted this quiet man were never disclosed. They were revealed to my brother as part of gathering information for a book being written on the Newfoundland Rangers. My father was Newfoundland Ranger #176. The writers were requesting a short biography of each Ranger, and my brother and I were gathering facts for them.


But I was ill prepared for the history of my fathers' service in the Royal Navy. Father is eighty-five now, and is more willing to speak of those memories that have always stalked him, and he speaks of his Mother, a strong, kind, hardworking woman, who endured the heartache of having her son caught in a world of horror and war.

image

My father was an only child, his father having died when my father was just two years old. So for a long time it was Grandmother and her much loved son sharing their lives together. Then came the summer of 1939. My father, who grew up in Belloram, NL, traveled to Harbor Breton, NL, another outport community. There he discovered a Royal Navy recruitment office. So with the impulsiveness and invincibility of youth, combined with a longing for adventure, he, like so many others of that time, signed up for service in the Royal Navy. Newfoundland was a British Colony then, and the Royal Navy held great promise for travel and adventure. He was not quite eighteen years old. His mother was unaware of all of this until he began his preparations to leave, and she became fearful, sad, full of distress, and she questioned her son's decision. Nevertheless she came to accept it, and her tears fell like rain as she sadly watched him prepare to sail away to a world of turmoil and tragedy.

image

So this young Newfoundland boy joined the Royal Navy in July 1939, and was overseas by November of that same year. He was swept into the misery of war. The 'HMS SHOREHAM', a Royal Navy Sloop, was his home at first. He then spent time on various other ships, on which he sailed many oceans and visited far off lands. Writing letters to his mother made him feel better and her relief that he was still alive was euphoric. Her heart ached for her son; she felt empty and alone.

image

My father missed his family, and felt guilty knowing his Mother was distressed beyond consolation.


Then the worst scenario occurred. In 1942 Father was taken as a Prisoner of War in North Africa. Through violence and the will to survive, he and his fellow prisoners escaped. They knew to be captured meant certain death, so consequently they ran by night and hid by day. During this time he was declared


'Missing in Action' for eighteen months.


I can only imagine the distress and suffering of my grandmother. Reading the paper I was holding, and realizing that this had happened to her, caused me to feel desolate for my 'Nan'. Her only child, her handsome son, a boy who she adored was gone. The strong boy who was so active, so kind and caring, was now a man, and she knew not where he was or if he was even alive. She was in Belloram, NL, her son was gone, and with him went her love of life. Day after day, never any news, no updates, no words of comfort and hope, only words of war came from her radio. The technology enabling more contact just was not as advanced as it is today. As the months wore on, she began to lose hope, and she gradually lost her health.

image

A woman with a broken heart, at the age of forty-five years slowly declined and eventually suffered a stroke. She would never be the same. She sometimes would have preferred death to this lack of health and the loss of her beloved son. While Father served in the Navy, and endured some of the worst invasions of a world at war, his mother battled her way back to reasonable health.


The stroke had left her with epilepsy. She suffered frequent convulsions, as medications were not as well advanced for epilepsy as they are today. Her sense of acute loss, combined with illness, made life seem so hopeless. She had been strong, always active and healthy, now she was constantly sad and felt useless. Life as she knew it was over. She was far away from the Invasion of Sicily, but she felt the deep unrelenting pain and sorrow as she fought on, while grieving for her son. Her world was full of suffering, where sorrow reigned, a world that had collapsed while she was in the prime of life. But she had hope and faith as she fought her daily battles, as did her son, just in a different way.

image

As I read, the face of my son was clear in my mind. John with his smiling face, his laughter, and his kindness so like his Poppy Jarvis. Just the thought of losing him brought me to tears. I felt an all-encompassing sadness for 'Nan'. Her challenge to regain health combined with her sons' disappearance, drowned her in a sea of sorrow. World War II was her hell too. It is difficult to withstand the severe pain of a broken heart.


Eventually word came that Dick Jarvis was alive. She now knew at least that much, and now she prayed for the time when she would see him again. Now there really was hope, and with hope she began to heal.


Finally, in 1945, the horrific World War ended. Father had survived and so had my grandmother. It must have been a reunion from heaven when he arrived home. The boy that left was gone though, the man that returned was troubled, and it took years to shake the frightening flashbacks. He had burned legs from a bomb blast and an eye that had been affected by gun powder. But he was alive!

image

My grandmother was quiet, kind, and loving. Recently I looked through our family photo albums and saw a photograph of my tenth birthday party. Nan is standing next to my father and her smile shows how much she loved him and his family. I also remember how she loved her rocking chair, adored us all, and suffered those awful seizures. Nan is gone now. She raised a wonderful son, and nobody will ever know how much she suffered.


They, who gave their sons and daughters, these strong women who waited and prayed, worried and cried, paid that price for the democracy we have today.

image

On Mother's Day please remember all mothers who endured so much. There are mothers still dealing with that heartache as the world continues to be at war on various fronts, and terrorism threatens our world, anytime, anywhere.


Happy Mother's Day to Mothers everywhere! Thank you for your sacrifices, thank you all for loving us!


Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe

image



Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe
88 Balbo Drive
Clarenville,NL
A5A 4A8

Please feel free to respond to any of Bonnies's writings either here by using our quick reply, or in our "Just Talk" Writer's Lounge area, or by submitting an e-mail to her, HERE:
to Bonnie



Song Playing: Always