Elizabeth Charlotte BOGOD

ELIZABETH CHARLOTTE BOGOD was my younger daughter. I miss her terribly. They say it gets better as time goes on. It does not. That being said, I have come to believe that Elizabeth is now at peace - that her daily struggles were awful, have ceased and that, I, her mother, and Philip, her father, and her siblings Nicholas and Karen, we have all to be at peace for her. There is so much to say about this young lady - it could be a book. She was kindness and gentleness itself. She took up the cudgel for those less fortunate and fought with courage and conviction for their needs and rights. She was known throughout the Victoria Mental Health Community for her advocacy and for the help she gave to so many in their own battles. I remember when a time when I took her to the Psychiatric Emergency Services at the Archie Courtnall Centre, Victoria, and was greeted with "So you are Elizabeth Bogod. I am proud to meet you". At her memorial ceremony, there were over 100 people. They say the value of one's life is often seen by the number who attend one's memorial. Elizabeth was born a 9.5 lb beautiful, cute, baby girl. She had astonishing brown eyes. One thing that stands out from her babyhood was the day I thought I saw something white in this three month old baby's mouth and I was shocked to think she might have gotten some foreign body into her mouth. She had. It was two teeth! At the start of her second year, she found herself with her family in Johannesburg, South Africa, where our whole family went for two years as a result of a company transfer. We rented a house and with it, as a package, two staff (a maid/nanny and a garden boy). Elizabeth spent most of her first two years enfolded in a colourful blanket on the back of this staff person while she went about her household chores, as is the custom for African "mothers". As we said goodbye to Rosemary when our assignment finished, she said she would so miss her baby girl. Elizabeth, of course, remembered none of this and was only able to see photographs. She regretted very much that she was too young to remember the African experience. Elizabeth was three when we came to Canada. At playgroup, the teacher told me "Elizabeth had asked for her 'broekies' and she did not know what she meant. I told her this was the Afrikaner word for underwear. At three, Elizabeth made great friends with a three year old boy called David and it was neat to see the two of them playing and often swimming quite naked in our swimming pool in the heat of the Toronto summer. The two played constantly but, as is the convention, all had to come to an end when both started kindergarten because boys cannot be seen to play with girls. Elizabeth took ballet and Suzuki piano. She had a keen musical ear but never really explored this. I have posted a photo of her in her tutu. She was a happy little girl but there were beginning to be signs of difference. For instance, we noticed she could not write her name and she could not count to more than 10, while most others kids of her age could count to more than 100. We approached the kindergarten teacher just as she was about to approach us. The net result was that Elizabeth was held back to repeat kindergarten. It had only been mornings and there was a another class in the afternoons so Elizabeth did mornings and afternoons, a full day. If you read her write up on LD Pride.net, you will see that this is the first time she appreciated a difference from her peers. Elizabeth was challenged by neural deficits and learning disabilities. She found it difficult to socialize, and math and physical education were problems. As a result, isolation started. There was bullying but it was often not bullying. It was more the natural selection of the human species to include those with whom we best fit and exclude those who don't. We all do it even as adults. I may like Gertrude but there is something about her that isn't quite for me so Gertrude, though a nice person, is not a part of my social circle. It is just the same at school. Elizabeth was subjected to hard bullying. No child will tell their family about this but we did learn from her about it and we did try to speak with school staff. However, those were the days of "it's all part of the growing up process - steel up". Highlights we remember were that Elizabeth was selected to represent her school in public speaking and we remember attending this. She did really well. No notes, off the cuff. This was a precursor to the future. She came to be an accomplished public speaker giving community presentations and a radio interview (see attached sound file. She was exceptionally talented as an artist and a poet. Again, examples of her work, e.g. The Tree, are shown on this website. Someone who read her Veggie Poetry told me she will never look at a potato in the same way again! Elizabeth had an extraordinary insight into horses. As a child, she loved to work around the stables and I well remember many wintery, freezing Toronto days, when I practically froze, myself, while waiting for her to "tack up" or "muck out"!! In fact, she loved all animals. We had a lot of fun one birthday when we had decided to give her a hamster. She had no idea what her gift was to be and when we took into the basement and she found the hamster in its cage, her excitement knew no bounds and was wonderful to behold. In her final years, she was able to have a cat. She decided to get a rescue cat from the SPCA. She spent three weeks, one afternoon a week, sitting on the floor where the sociable cats were allowed to wander free, trying to select a cat. Eventually, one particular cat came to her and this came to her each time she was there. His name was Charlie. "This is my cat", she said. Charlie was old - nine - and it is a sad tale. He lived precisely one year and then had to be put down. Elizabeth took it sadly but well. She had given an unwanted cat who because of its age wou