Creemore: A love letter
I still remember arriving in Creemore, almost thirteen years ago to the day. Nothing could have prepared me for what life would look like in this tiny village. I was a city girl, and when we first moved, I did not have a driverʼs license and had certainly never seen anyone drive a lawn tractor on the street before!
To my surprise, when I arrived at the post office to get my mail key, Colleen and Pauline knew exactly who I was and where I was moving before I even introduced myself! When I stopped by today to say goodbye and pick up the last of the mail coming to 15 Caroline for the Harris Sopinka family, Colleen was there calling me kiddo (at a time of life where some folks ask about senior discount eligibility, I cannot tell you how much I love this!), her amazing blooms showcased on the counter, something Iʼve admired every week from May-August for years.
We were moving into the “old Priddle house” folks would tell me, and they were happy to share stories about the house and its history. There were few fences in the village then, and I recall the first time someone cut through our backyard on their way to St. Lukeʼs for the community lunch – always keen to check out what I was planting in the garden, or what the kids were up to. I still have many of the plants that Dorothy Shropshire so kindly divided for me when she knew I wanted to restore the perennial gardens on our property. She thoughtfully shared both her stories and her plants with me, and kindled a love of gardening that I never expected to discover.
I was pregnant when we moved, and due that winter. As I got bigger, and the weather got worse, I would meet old timers who would tell me stories about women being driven up Airport road on tractors in snowstorms to make it to the hospital. Hmm. This conjured images of Bob Ransier hauling me up the 6th line, simultaneously doubling as chauffeur and midwife – a shocking prospect for this newly minted country girl! Equally mind blowing – getting my eggs, Christmas tree, and maternity wear (3X insulated Camo one piece anyone?) at Ham Bros. that winter after being snowed in for days in a record breaking storm.
A family friend advised me before we moved: “You have to meet Sara at The Echo, she knows everyone and everything!” Ya, right I thought naively – how can anyone know everyone and everything? Clearly, I hadnʼt met Sara yet! Packing up these last few weeks, Iʼve come across so many clippings from The Echo chronicling highlights from my kids’ childhoods – Santa Claus Parades, Canada Day festivities at the Legion, food drives, track meets, community events, concerts, and so on. I love that my kids grew up in a place where they believed they were famous (“Mom, none of my friends who aren’t from Creemore have even been in the paper!”) and where they would proudly tell their friends who came to visit: “Ya, itʼs just like that here, we know everybody!” The Echo continues to be a hub for this community and in a time of turbulence and deep divisiveness, it is heartening to know this kind of connection is still possible.
Our eldest daughter, Yarrow, has happy memories of attending Hummingbird Montessori at the Presbyterian Church down the street, and Frida at Sass Dempseyʼs beloved preschool “SOS” (School of Sass!). Yarrow was fortunate to have attended the old primary site before it closed, and our youngest, Frida, in the then new kindergarten wing of the Collingwood Street site. I have so many memories of the informal mom/play groups we had at St. Lukeʼs, at the park, in our backyards and living rooms. They were chaotic and a lifeline filled with laughter, sometimes tears, lots of kids, and more laughter. I have an old and dear friend coin this special time “the early years.” Indeed they were, and I still cherish them.
My husband Steve built his business, Fieldesign, in Creemore and I have worked in a variety of different mental health capacities while weʼve lived in this community.
As Fieldesign readies to move to Collingwood, and as I take on new challenges academically and professionally I am forever thankful for the unwavering support and encouragement we have always received from our friends and community.
Without you, none of this would have been possible.
I could go on, and this love letter is incomplete. But, this I know is true: Creemore is absolutely “the little village with the big heart”, and I am grateful for having been nurtured by its love over the years. This isnʼt goodbye, just until we meet again.
With love and deep appreciation,
Gillian Harris Sopinka
Creemore
