(Originally posted March 16, 2013)

This next part of Zara's story is one that I did not become familiar with until years later. We did a series of interviews for this and I was wondering how best to present this. I finally decided to simply step back and let Zara tell this part of her story.

The following excerpts are taken from three different sessions.

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Zara's words

May 31, 2015

Some of the information about this period I either left out or for some reason, didn't tell the whole truth. But I decided to change that, this time around.

The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

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Life and Death (1)

Mom's death was surreal to me. I could not believe she had died. I could not accept the fact that I would never see her again, never hear her voice.

I mean, she was only 37. Who the fuck dies when they are 37?

I was so mad at her for leaving me. I was devastated at first, but then I got mad. Seemed like everyone I loved was leaving me. First Nanny Olive and then Mom. Even Ron left me.And I was still only 16.

Now I had to be the woman of the house?

I kept thinking to myself, what the fuck had I done to deserve this.

I was a fucking mess. I was not ready to become Suzy Homemaker. I was 16 and I wanted a life.

I needed a break. I needed to get away from everything for a while.

Mom's sister, Auntie Sheila, suggested that I go back to Toronto with her and Uncle Peter. At least for a couple weeks, until I could wrap my head around things.

I told her first that I could not leave Dad alone, but she talked to Dad and he agreed that I should go. He assured me that he would be okay.

I packed my old suitcase and left with my Aunt and Uncle.

The one thing that no one knew was that the day after Mom died, Ron came to see me. Dad was making arrangements for Mom's funeral and I was alone in the house, crying. He tried his best to comfort me and suggested that we go to his place and relax there. Just to get me out of the house and away from the memories, for a little while. We went to his house. He told me how sorry he was and fed me a whole pile of crap about how we could still make our relationship work and I could even go to high school in St. Johns while he went to University.

I sucked it all up like the silly little girl that I was.

Anyway, to make a long story short, we ended up having sex. Actually a couple times.


It was my first time. Looking back on it now, it was terrible. I'm sure any women reading this will agree with me. It was not like they describe it in the romance novels. It's like 2 minutes of groping and grunting and then its over.

Later that night Ron once again reassured me that he still wanted to be with me and now that Mom was gone, there was no reason for me not to be with him.

I was shocked. We hadn't even buried Mom and he was acting like nothing had happened at all.

I didn't even get mad, I was too much in shock. I just simply agreed, got dressed and asked him to take me home.

That was the last time I saw him. I never even phoned him when I decided to go to Toronto.

It was actually the last time I ever saw or spoke to Ron.

Aunt Sheila and Uncle Peter were wonderful to me. Aunt Sheila was Mom's older sister. They never had kids and both of them had good jobs, Uncle Peter was Regional Manager for a large food chain and Aunt Sheila was an accountant. I really liked both of them. They were my favourite relatives.

They made me feel so at home.

My two weeks turned into three weeks and then four weeks.

Then something happened that changed my life forever.

I remember calling Dad in the middle of March. I could tell, by his slurring, that he was drunk. He had been drinking heavily since Mom had died. So far he had managed to keep his job, but he was hanging on by a string.

I felt bad for him, but I was having my own demons to deal with and I certainly could not handle him. Especially with the drinking.

I told Dad I was going to stay for a little while longer. I remember him saying something to the effect of...

"Sure, why not. All the other women in my life have left me. Why not you?"

I felt bad, so I told him I would come home. He was silent.

Then I dropped the bombshell on him.

"Dad, I'm pregnant."

There was another long silence. I could hear the clanging of glass. I knew he was pouring a drink.

"Dad, did you hear me?"

What he said next, absolutely broke my heart.

"You fucking little slut. Do you even know who the father is?"

I was shocked. I started to cry. I remember him yelling all kinds of things to me and then he started saying horrible things about Mom.

I was crying so hard. Aunt Sheila and Uncle Peter came running. Aunt Sheila hugged me and started talking to me. Uncle Peter took the phone. All I remember after that was Aunt Sheila leading me to my room and Uncle Peter just blasting into Dad. He was yelling so loud that we could hear him all the way upstairs. I never heard so much swearing in my life and we all know I can belt it out like a dock worker.

Once again I was devastated. My loving father was treating me like like I was some kind of whore tramp.

Once again, it was like I had lost someone I loved.

This time my father.