A Hiding Place

Scads of books today are written on the subject of solitude, private moments, power of place. Fifty years ago books like this were rare.

My mother in partitioning off a small space in the basement of her new home must have found the idea of a retreat appealing. She would not have read a book about such things nor had the desire to do so. At the time of her setting aside this private niche, I didn't question why. Only now on thinking about her being alone most of the day anyway, with a husband at work and daughter at school, what need did she feel to have this extra spot to go to?

She spent time in the huge vegetable garden across the tracks, in the stone-designed flower garden beside the house, in the yard where chickens ran free. Plenty of room for solitude there. All entailing work. The newly constructed house contained sizable bedrooms, living and dining areas and a kitchen. Plenty of space to wander there too. But again associated with work- cleaning, painting, cooking.

Is it any wonder she chose to make a nook in quarters apart from these? How she cordoned off this small room, I can't remember. She might have used divider screens. After all, putting up the chicken coop and building a doghouse for Tiny was mainly her doing. The west window sported curtains, and below it, a cot was covered with a blue blanket, factory-woven from the family's discarded woollen items. A vase of crepe paper carnations moulded by an elderly bachelor sat on a small table.

But the wall covering is what made her place special. The walls were plastered with pictures of movie stars, some in pinup poses common to that period. All in black and white--no colour photos then. Mom adored the movies. In the city of Regina, she had attended twice a week.

In this hamlet of Kayville, far from a city, owning no car, seeing movies became sporadic, and those shown in the town hall were very old. Mom would have missed the glamour.

Isolated from jobs outdoors, from jobs upstairs, this space would be a welcome retreat. She could daydream here. As she lay on the cot, sun rays flowing through the lace, did she dream how her life might have gone differently, maybe indulging in a fantasy? She would have been on the cusp of forty--still young. For five years this house, with its little haven was her home.

Greta Garbo was Mom’s favorite. Photo by Kristin Enns-Kavanagh. Credits for images shown are found below.

Even if I'd thought to ask my mother "why there? why then?" she would have hesitated to give an answer. No explaining, as current books do, for the need to be free of distractions, to unwind and reflect, or the comfort received--feeling serene, replenished, balanced. No elaborating on outer and inner space. Of her solitary place, she might have said simply, "There was this empty spot."

Elsie Toupich.

ELSIE TOUPICH has lived in Regina most of her life. Globe Theatre plays are a favourite entertainment. She began writing classes after retirement with the Senior’s Education Center and has worked with a number of writers including Brenda Riches, Connie Gault (fiction) and Anne Campbell (non-fiction).

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Photo credits:

Greta Garbo, 1924 by Henry Goodwin. Henry B. Goodwin, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Norma Shearer in “Riptide,” 1934. Unknown author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Greta Garbo and John Gilbert in Anna Karenina, 1927. Unknown author, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons.