Small towns, Step Mother and the role of Gratitude

In an interview with VCTV about the election I alluded to this, but didn't really finish the story... here's a little bit about my leadership style. It is Thanksgiving after all.
As the middle kid in a family of five kids I didn't have a lot of responsibility before I turned 10. I had to make a lunch for school, make my bed and go to church on Sunday.
When I was 10 that all changed. My mother was diagnosed with cancer. I didn't know what that was, but it became pretty clear she wasn't expected to be around much longer.
My siblings and I started doing more around the house. We took care of each other. We fought less, or at least less visibly, and we helped out where we could.
The community, our neighbours and our family friends in Rocky Mountain House wrapped us up in their arms and took care of us. They were there for us. The visible sign of their care was our freezer. It overflowed with food.
Then mom died.
Our family moved. My older brother stayed to finish school and my older sister went to university.
My dad, my 3-year-old sister, my 10-year-old brother and I moved to a new town (Vegreville).
I was 13.
I became the eldest child at home in a single parent family.
My little sister had awesome daycare and she would often stay late while dad was at meetings. But often it was just me, my sister and my little brother at home.
As a kid, nobody asked me to do anything. There was never any discussion about me doing more.
I made a meal because it was dinner time. No one was going to make it for us.
I entertained, corralled, cleaned up (in cases of mass disaster), threw a load of laundry in (no idea why everything turned out pink), and comforted my sister who was a toddler, not too much older than my daughter Locklan is today.
My first leadership training was as a child.
My 'parenting' skills did not come from a book, Dr. Spock or otherwise. My cooking was sometimes a disaster... no,  usually a disaster if you consider nutrition.
But the lesson from my time at home while waiting for dad to finish his meetings was this: If you want something done, just do it.
Get started. With luck, others will pitch in. My little brother, just 10, often would.
That experience shapes how I lead today. Tackle issues head on. Ask for help? Sure. But don't wait for it.

I should probably end this post here, but it leads me to another point I want to make. It is connected to why I live here today.

Small town love

I was 26 years old when I moved to Valemount from Edmonton. I immediately recognized something I didn't know I missed.  A sense of community.
It was plain as day: I wanted to be part of a community like the one that rallied around my family in Rocky.
Regardless of political affiliation, religious differences and long-standing grudges, people pitch in when it counts.
I love Valemount for a number of reasons, I love playing in the snow and riding bikes, jamming at the Legion and having friends of all ages, creeds and occupations, but this idea is a very important one and probably the one that sealed the deal.
A third point, as long as we are in this deep: My stepmom basically saved my teenage years.

My stepmom

I was happy to help out, but when dad found Elaine, she turned my world on its head. They must have met when I was 15.
She looked after my sister like she was her own, she kept enough milk in the fridge for my little brother (4L per day), she cleaned and cooked and encouraged me to have a life!
All night in the garage building a gas powered go kart? No problem. "Here's lunch, Andru, hurry to school."
Borrow the car? Yes. Every time. Friends over? Yes. For Dinner too? Yes.
Elaine was amazing. Anytime I made dad angry, you can guess who had my back.
When my older brother and sister expressed their dismay at her use of white bread over brown or her attempts to be liked (by them), I stood up for her.
I respected my older brother and sister, they were kind of like gods to me, but in this, I knew they didn't have the full picture.
They didn't have to live in pre-Elaine mayhem, which was basically a laundry heap overflowing into a kitchen full of dirty dishes and not a crumb to eat (save for the packet of pasta I cooked). They didn't have to try to decode what my little sister was crying over or figure what would make it better.
That had been my life.
So I expressed my gratitude. It helped that she was super smart and funny and, a widow like my dad, had just sent her two teenage kids into the world (who, by all accounts raised as much hell as I did).
My stepmom and I have a bond. She is in town with dad for Thanksgiving and to help with my campaign. She offered to help (she wants to write about that time too), and then I realized I needed to publish this piece I've been working on.
Elaine and I protected and helped each other through tough times.
It made life so much better.

Gratitude 

The habit of gratitude follows me. I express my gratitude to the people who help me. Even if they are under my employ. I try to notice their extra efforts, the smart ways they approach things (especially when they are different from my approach), I'm just glad someone else is doing work that I would have had to do. If something goes wrong, I don't mind stepping out in front because I know how hard people have worked to prevent it from being so.
I think that habit may have helped attract (and keep) some of the great staff we had at the village office back in the day. A little gratitude can go a long way.

Thanks for reading this! Happy Thanksgiving!