It was 1941. The war was on in Europe. Who knew what the future would bring. Mom was in love with Dad. He was the youngest son in a respected church going family. He played hockey and ball on local teams. He completed grade eleven before beginning work at various jobs in the community. Then he owned and operated a gas station, well the one and only gas station in Hepburn. His brother Harry owned the local hardware store. His father was the town Reeve. Dad, Edward by name and known as Eddie, was a debonair man, prematurely bald, with a manicured pencil mustache. He whistled everywhere he walked. Church was not on his priority list. For that reason, when Mom fell for him, the counsel she received was cautious.
Mom had worked ever since she was a teenager. Compelled to work for the sake of the family she had to end school after grade 9. She always regretted this and bore a sense of educational inferiority through her adult years. It was against the general will of the Christian community for her as a committed Christian to marry someone who had not yet settled eternal matters with God as far as anyone knew. Dad and Mom loved each other. He was 26 years of age and Mom was 22. So on June 12, 1941 Edward Unruh and Tina (Doerksen) Willems exchanged wedding vows. Mom couldn’t afford a traditional wedding dress, white and clearly sanctified. She wore pink and she wore a hat. They honeymooned in Saskatoon. They were very happy.
Ed and Tina wasted little time in beginning a family which began with me, firstborn, on Sunday, September 13, 1942. WWII was raging and Hepburn’s inhabitants were primarily Mennonite people with a pacifist position with regard to conflict. They would be exempt as conscientious objectors. Dad was not bound by such religious strictures. My father had already made up his mind that he was a Canadian and he bore responsibility for the nation into which he was born and into which his child was born. Against the predictable community behaviour he and a handful of young townsmen enlisted. Dad joined the Royal Canadian Air Force and Mom became a war bride who would spend much of the next years on her own. Dad was never shipped overseas. When he was sent to Gananoque, Ontario, Mom was able to accompany him. When he was sent to White Horse for an extended time, she felt his absence. They would remain in love and together for 66 years.
Photos:
• Mom in her wedding dress and hat June 12, 1941
• Mom and me in the Hepburn Central Office and residence where mom and dad operated the switchboard.
I am a realist/impressionist/representational painter. I like painting subjects to look like recognizable subjects. In recent weeks I have been faced with an uncommon task, painting a theme. A client asked me to paint two trees with interlocking branches and roots as a symbol of a marriage union. This will be a wedding gift soon. That is, if I don’t destroy my two attempts first. If they survive and if my client likes one of them well enough, we will complete the sale. I am sure that I am harder on myself than the client will be, but I can’t be certain of that either since Christine, my resident art critic keeps pointing out features needing improvement. It’s been an exercise in self-realization. I am less able to imagine images to convey concepts than I thought I was. I have greater respect now for aboriginal artists who capture the spirit of nature and creatures, and for cartoonists who visualize thematic interaction between people. There has been some artistic enjoyment in this work and a strong dose of frustration. Since I was told that the engaged couple are deeply committed to their Christian faith, I have painted subtle symbols such as the Holy Spirit superimposed as a dove in the foliage of the joined trees, and the tree roots sunk into the foundational principles and truths of the ten commandments and the assurance of Christ’s divinity with the open tomb underground. The paintings are coming along, with more fine touches to be added. Yes, I did two paintings and that will give my client a choice. She can have them both but she can choose the one she will gift to her friends. Upon completion, I can hardly wait to get at my next two commissions, true subjects that reflect light and create shadow. I would be a lousy and dissatisfied abstract painter even though I often appreciate some other artists’ work. 
