The call of home: Moving to New Brunswick (Part III)
Hard to believe, but it’s been five years since my friend and I pulled into the driveway after dark, with a disintegrated rear tire and most of my wife’s and my worldly possessions in tow.
The Call of Home: Moving to New Brunswick (Part II)
We finally had one foot in New Brunswick, where we really wanted to be. We just didn’t know exactly when we would move here or what our life here would look like.
La tempête de fin octobre
They sit in their vehicles behind the Centre communautaire, high-beam headlights illuminating but a sliver of the temperamental Strait
On dying & grief (Part 2)
I got a call on a cold November evening in 1979 while I was engrossed in the first few months of my University of Alberta studies, living in my cozy little off-campus Edmonton basement suite; bear in mind that those were the days before call display and when calling long-distance wasn’t an expense to be taken lightly. It was my high school basketball coach.