The McLeans
The McLeans immigrated to Canada from the UK in the early 1960s.
At that time, there were only two of them - Harold and Jeannie. They were both in their early 20s and had just married.
Harold and Jeannie settled in Ottawa, Canada's Capital City, in it's Rural West End which was still rugged and underpopulated. They hired themselves out as farm hands on the O'Brien Farm and worked from sun-up to sun-down for the next several years.
They squirreled away their nickles and dimes until they were able to buy a 100 acre piece of rock-scrabble and through the 70s and 80s eked out a living. They were proud though since for the first time in their lives they owned their own property - save for the mortgage owed to the Bank.
By now there 4 more - 2 girls and 2 boys named, Patricia, Brigitte, Sean and little Bill. Little Bill was the youngest and sadly had suffered brain damage at birth. He would always go by the name 'Little' despite the fact that he eventually tipped the scales at over 250 lbs. and grew to some six foot two inches in height.
Early in the new millennia the father, Harold, died of heart attack the doctors summing it up best when they said Harold simply worked himself to death. But he died happy or so family and friends had said.
The two daughters and the healthy son were by now off on their own but due to Little Bill's "slowness" he remained at home, on the farm, with his mum.
Jeannie and Little Bill struggled to get by on her small government pensions and with the help from neighbours and friends. Fortunately, Harold held sufficient life insurance so when he died in 2001, there was enough money to pay off the mortgage.
In any event, Jeannie didn't count her blessings by how much money she had.. rather she basked in the joy of life on the farm with her Little Bill.
And truth be told, Jennie was not poor. Indeed she was a multi-millionaire.
Although she and Harold had paid but $5,000 for their farm in 1969, by the turn of the century it was worth in the million of dollars given that the City of Ottawa had expanded westward and subdivisions were springing up all around them.
Hardly a month went by without a realtor driving down their lane with an offer...the most recent of which was for $3.2 Million.
Her three healthy kids were constantly at her to sell... especially Sean - the oldest - who had experienced several bad business investments. But as Jeannie so aptly put it - Little Bill and I are happy here - why would we ever move.
But as the new century progressed Jennie's health began to deteriorate. Not her physical health - she was still strong as a horse - but mentally she was getting more and more frail.
Early Dementia, the Doctors called it.
By 2016 she had lost interest in cooking, cleaning and the like and of course did not have the finances at hand to bring in help. But Little Bill did the best he could to fill the void and Brigitte and especially Patricia visited their mother often to help with the household duties.
It was at this point that Sean called a meeting of his two sisters to take place at the family farm. He said they were going to confront their mother once and for all and demand that she sell the farm.
The meeting took place on a Saturday morning in May. The four of them sat around the old oak kitchen table...Little Bill was down at the creek playing with his new puppy dog 'Spot'.
Sean led off by giving example after example of how his mother's mental health was failing. He then, threw open the floor to his two sisters both of whom had their own examples of their mother's infirmity.
At this point, Sean asked his mother to reply.
She did not - she had retreated into herself and simply looked defeated. Patricia took Jeannie off to bed.
When Patricia returned Sean laid out what he was really thinking. Euthanasia Laws had come into being and he pointed out that "sad cases like our mother are exactly what these laws are intended to address".
Patricia wisely pointed out that Little Bill would not be able to function without his mom while Brigitte noted that none of them were in any position to take care of him.
Sean though once again had the answer. Olde Doc down the road had often told their parents that Little Bill should never have been allowed to live after birth. Doc had said, "we should have just left him on the table to starve".
Patricia was shocked. Brigitte kept her own counsel and did not express concern.
Patricia broke the silence, "what about Little Bill's new puppy?"
Again Sean came though with an easy answer, "we'll just put it down too with mum and Bill."
So that was that.
Death came to all three without service or even a notice in the local paper.
A few days after the 'event' Sean received a telephone call from the Crematorium advising that the ashes of his mother and brother were ready for pick-up by the family. Sean told the caller the family had no need for the ashes and instructed him to dispose of them in the usual fashion. (Whatever that meant - but it seemed to Sean that it had a particular air of finality to it.)
Over the next many months Sean and his sisters would meet to receive updates from Sean as to how the wind-up of the Estate was going. It had taken longer than Sean had wanted but throughout he kept his eye on the bottom-line - that is to say how much money would remain for the three of them to share once legal, court, real estate fees had been paid and the necessary taxes submitted.
The most recent such meeting proved somewhat awkward when Sean had said to Patricia that she looked peeked, "are you feeling okay?"
Upon hearing this Patricia's stomach turned, while Brigitte looked away embarrassed.
Perhaps one or more were all thinking - that A Three Way Split is Fine...a Two Way Split is Better..while a One Way Split is Best.
Unless of course you are not the survivor.
They certainly were not thinking about Jeannie, nor Little Bill, nor even his new puppy Spot.
As I see it...
'K.D. Galagher'
