Marilyn Jean Pollard

She had been with me my whole life. Even before, if that's your belief. And before that she had a life, a whole life. A childhood in Bertha Minnesota, a stint in secretarial college in Minneapolis, then after a couple of summers on the US side of Glacier park Marilyn Pollard made her way west, as far as she could get, to dip her feet in Puget Sound.

In the late 50's she met my dad, Robert Pollard, handsome and dashing in his Korean War uniform. They got married in a quasi-Buddhist ceremony and soon after, in 1961 came my brother Bob. Then Carrie in '63 and lastly me in '65. Along the way our family moved to Montana and South Dakota and then back to Seattle - Kent actually, when it was filled with fields of hay, bullfrogs and hazelnut trees.

For some reason, lost to time, my dad decided to take a job at Canadian Cellulose, and so moved us all to the wilds of Prince Rupert. It was 1970, yet we still thought we were moving into an igloo during the 24 hours of darkness.

In the end, though PR was amazing for we free-range kids, it was just too much for Marilyn. Her three least favourite things? The rain, the rain and the rain. The family started to unravel a bit, and a short-lived move to Kitimat didn't help.

On a 1976 visit to Vancouver Island, while looking into Shawnigan for my brother we took a side trip to Victoria and my mum fell in love with it. In 1978 my dad took a position at Alcan in Montreal, my sister was in St. Margaret's and I, the smarty pants, won scholarships to Shawnigan and SMU - my parents let me choose and I picked the one with girls. Shock.

We didn't really get it at the time but this was chapter three in our family journey. Dad never really came back, he found a woman in Montreal and one day showed up in Victoria announcing that he and mum were getting a divorce. And, of course, we celebrated as you do. With a dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory. As we kids started to grow up, grow into ourselves and our personalities and personas - our parents became more and more detached from us. It all kind of happened organically, and every change was met with ‘well…. OK’ and no real explanation. Years later I got angry at my folks for not talking to us. For letting us ask questions. It was like we were all getting baptized into this new adulthood thing. Which became our saviour and our armour.

For her part Marilyn had a new project to dive into - the purchase and renovation of a 1908 boarding house at 1927 Fort St, transforming it into a British style tearoom - The Bantly House. Did she have restaurant experience? No. Had she opened a business before? No. Did she really think that three teenagers WANTED ANY PART OF THIS? Well, she had a dream. Maybe it was a way to keep us close. To keep us together.

The restaurant did well for a few years. The family part of it? Not so much. Bobby got a part in a movie and at 21 was off acquiring a bunch of bad habits and a Genie Award for best song in a motion picture. Carrie was taking her preternatural skill for art and design to Vancouver’s Blanch McDonald where she won a scholarship. I had followed my brother into the new wave music scene and the glitz and glamour that came with it. I had no fucking clue what was going on. We were getting high all the time and just messing around.

And the unravelling continued. In another baffling move our father decided not to pay for Carrie’s schooling (FFS) and so she worked at Mario’s Gelato on Robson and started life in the big city. Bob had moved away and never came back, and it was just me and my mum. I never thought of her as a single mom, or a divorcee I guess, but she was. She had a lot of pressure on her and I was 15. I was a fucking nightmare. The last straw was the summer of ’80 or 81. I came home one morning covered in blood and wearing a girl’s private school outfit. I had lost my keys so had to wake her up at 2am. That must have been a sight.

The next day I came home to all my shit on the lawn. I scooped it up and… left.

So then the dream was kind of over. The marriage… the family… the restaurant… I had gone from a genius to a drop out. My dad got remarried. My sister kept her distance… she and mum fought like cats… but for better or worse we were all living our separate lives. A lot sooner than we had planned.

Mum tried to keep the restaurant afloat but it was too much for her. Honestly the product was great - people still talk about her scones - but it was too much. So she used her 160 words a minute typing skills and started working for government. She started to settle into life in Victoria, meeting new friends - John and Gary, Lucio and Joy, Don… but the house was too big and the interest rate too high and so…. She moved on.

To Texas. And Cleveland. And somewhere else too - I can’t remember. Frankly I have no idea what mom did there. But she spent a few years as a bit of a nomad and came back home. I should find out what she did there…. At some point along the timeline our dad died of cancer (I think I was 32?) And then there were four.

So she began chapter 5? Or was it 6? 7? Anyways… she used her meagre savings to put a deposit on a 180 sq foot condo in the Mosaic building and our fractured crazy quilt of a family slowly started to weave itself back together. Trish and I had moved into together and mum loved her. Which honestly was a first. Mum had a fractious relationship with every woman in our family. Guys always got a pass but women were scrutinized to the an impossible level. That’s the way she was wired. I wish it weren’t the case but…

Mum loved our daughter Alexandra but their relationship was always a little prickly. Again. A female… And Bob & Jean’s daughter Ruby? The same. And of course she loved Nathaniel but that was not a real Grandmother / Grandson dynamic, was it? N wasn’t cuddly. And, you know, he didn’t speak… But she did truly and deeply love him. And when Carrie had Gabriel? That’s when Granny Marilyn came out.

Mum loved Gabe and his sister Ava. When Gabe got his MD diagnosis they were all living together in the house on Biscoe and… I realize, at this point in the story this part is not really my story to tell. But when Gabe was killed life got unbearable for my sister and mum and everyone else down the line.

Mum got a very late MS diagnosis and her body started to betray her. And when Gabe was killed… she lost her heart. Marilyn was having difficulty leaving her suite. Physically and emotionally. So with not a little cajoling Carrie and I finally convinced mum to move to Cridge. And honestly that was the best thing for her. She loved the food. She started to make friends again, especially her beloved pal Doctor Sophie. They became like a platonic lesbian odd couple and frankly it was fking adorable.

So that was chapter 9, or 10 or whatever it was. And on Wednesday Sept 4, 2024 2:00 am mum’s heart stopped and ended the story for good. One week short of her 88th birthday.

I have cried a bit but frankly it ended up being a pretty good life for her, I think. If I were a betting man I would never have put money down on us still being a family, sixty odd years later, but there we were. Able to laugh together, share food and drinks, to actually like the people we had all grown into.

As a mother, what is the measure of your life? The life you had? The lives you made? Your friends? The things you did? Marilyn Pollard wasn’t perfect, but she made us. This family of weirdos who still love each other and will do so forever.

That seems like success to me, yeah? But I sure wish she were still here to see it.

Marilyn Jean Kleen Pollard, Sept 17 1936 - September 4 2024

Marcus Pollard

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