Category: Family

I love my Uncle Bill. He is one of my biggest fans and has encouraged me to be the best I can be ever since I was a little girl. I also know he will see this post as my Uncle Bill reads my blog every day. He leaves comments, he cheers me on, and really, he is just the best uncle a girl could have. Everyone needs an Uncle Bill.

William Gomberg is the brother of my maternal grandfather, my Zaidy. That makes him my great-uncle. And yes, he is a great uncle. He, along with my Zaidy and their two sisters, grew up in Montreal in the 1920’s and 1930’s. Uncle Bill eventually made his way to New York City. He spent most of his adult life in New York then moved back to Montreal, where he lives today with his incredible wife, Susan.

But today’s blog is not about my Uncle Bill’s life. Today I am writing about my personal relationship with him and the positive and strong influences he has had on my life.

The first memory I have is his big, bushy beard. I don’t like facial hair (that may be for another blog post), and I used to tell him that he couldn’t give me those wet sloppy kisses he always loved to give his nieces and nephews simply because he had a beard. But he couldn’t help hugging and kissing his beloved nieces and nephews and always managed to convince me that his big, bushy beard wasn’t scary at all.

My brother, sister and I always looked forward, as children, to a visit from Uncle Bill. One reason, and I won’t mince words – he always came with a gift or took us out and let us choose a gift. Some of my favourite dolls and stuffed toys, which I have to this day, are from my Uncle Bill. But it was more than the gifts – he spent quality time with us. We felt he really wanted to be with us, talking, playing or reading books.

Uncle Bill taught me how to dance. Back in June 1981, when I was just 4 years old (almost 5!), our whole family travelled to our cousin’s wedding in the United States. Uncle Bill was my date, and though I didn’t like his bushy beard, I danced with him. I stood on his feet, he carried me, and he gave me the kind of special attention every child craves. I admit that I don’t remember much about the wedding (sorry Judy and Ira!) but I do remember my moments there with my Uncle Bill.

Knives. He gave me my first knife, a beautiful Swiss Army knife, when I was 12 years old, for my Bat Mitzvah. Little did I know that it was to be only the first knife of many from him. Did you know that knife sharpening is an art? Did you know just how sharp a blade can be? Spend a few minutes (and bring your knives) to my Uncle Bill, and he will teach you. It will change your life.

Books, newspapers, magazines, and now websites. My Uncle Bill ingests and soaks up knowledge like no one else I know. While today, at age 87, he may have physical challenges, his appetite to read, learn and educate others has not slowed down. It wouldn’t be a normal week if I didn’t receive a few tidbits of knowledge, via many web links, from my Uncle Bill. Do you want to know about the best knives available today? How about the history of the Jews of Lithuania? Or maybe you want to know about left handed baseball players who hit 30 or more home runs in a season? Are you into politics and want to learn more about the current situation in the United States? Ask Uncle Bill. He has a link, or a book, for that.

Just mention an interest or a new hobby to Uncle Bill, and you can see that his wheels are turning. How can he help you embrace your hobby? This summer we visited Uncle Bill in Montreal just after Matthew and I went to Chicago. Matthew sat with Uncle Bill and excitedly shared every detail about his recent experience and his love of baseball. To ensure Matthew is properly educated about some of the baseball greats, a few weeks later packages arrived for Matthew from Uncle Bill. First was a book about Satchel Paige, then another arrived about Jackie Robinson, then one on Ty Cobb.

Matthew was overjoyed to receive a special gift like this. He was amazed that his great-great uncle listened so attentively to him and was thoughtful to send him these books. Few children have a great-great uncle, and even fewer have the opportunity to sit down, face to face and have an insightful conversation with him. At age ten, Uncle Bill has already influenced Matthew’s life.

I could write thousands of words about my Uncle Bill, but I hope all of you understand just how special he is. If you have – or if you had – an uncle like this you understand what I mean.

Uncle Bill, thank you for being who you are and what you are. I know you are reading this whole blog post because I count on you to read every time I post. Keep doing what you do, big, bushy beard and all.

I have been teasing this blog post for the last few weeks. I have mentioned the house in Saint Donat a few times in previous posts, and now is the day I will share the great wonders of this special place. I’m talking about the Hart family country home, deep in the Laurentian mountains, in the heart of Quebec.

The Hart family is David’s mother’s family. David’s grandfather, Isador Hart, bought land in the far-off village of Saint Donat in the 1940’s. In 1949 he and his wife, Ada, built a small cabin on the edge of Lake Archambault. They chose a spot where the land juts out and has the most spectacular view of the lake. From this spot, it feels like the mountains are melting into the water below.

The two-bedroom cabin was a tight squeeze for the Hart family of five, which included their three kids, Barbara, Annie and Billy. Over the years, as the family grew, the house was expanded and renovated. Today it is a five-bedroom, three-bathroom sprawling bungalow. The house maintains its 1950’s character, with the original yet functional kitchen, painted wood paneling and assortment of vintage furniture.

The Hart family’s connection to this home is something special. As my mother-in-law, Barbara, recently said, “If I forget thee, O Saint Donat, may my right hand wither.”  

David grew up in this home, as did his siblings and cousins. They spent their summers here, swimming in the lake, playing hide and seek and building sand castles on the beach. David often tells me that his best memories of his childhood are from Saint Donat.

I have been coming to Saint Donat for half my life. I have been here when it’s almost empty and quiet and also with twenty other people. When the house is empty, you can hear the loons sing on the lake and the trees rustle in the wind. When the house is full, like it is this week, it can be hard to find a seat on the couch or two minutes in the bathroom. I remember one summer, a few years ago, when the house topped twenty people and we ran out of beds and couches for people to sleep. The living room was so packed with people, on couches, the floor and a cot, that it looked like a homeless shelter.

The traditions are many in the Hart house, and there are too many to include all of them here. People don’t swim here, they throw themselves in the lake. It wouldn’t be a summer without “Steak night in Canada.” A popular evening activity is a rousing game of Boggle. A morning is not complete without a roaring fire. Grandma Hart’s famous eggplant, first made by Ada and now by Billy, is a staple. There are power walks, canoe trips and camping trips. Squad Leader. The deer head. Decorated plates. Ancestor photo. Good things breakfast. Blueberry pie. People magazine.

I often joke that the home has kept so much of its original charm that if you pushed one of the outside walls too hard the whole house would fall over. Okay, it’s a bit of an exaggeration, but like any home that is almost 70 years old, the property probably needs a bit of TLC. Maintaining a family country home for so many years can be a challenge, and planning for each summer is often an anxious experience. But for me and David, once we hit the Laurentian Autoroute and pass our favourite landmarks like the Big Chicken, Banana Bridge and cross on the mountain, our stresses disappear.

For the Hart family, no matter how busy life is, no matter where in the world they live, Saint Donat is their true home. They would move mountains to spend time here and come together as a family. As a thunderstorm brews outside and we gather in the living room beside a roaring fire, today the Hart family is enjoying a typical Saint Donat day. I look forward to so many more.