The first year

When I was 12, Mum and Dad packed up the family station wagon and headed west to visit our McDowell cousins in North Vancouver. Unlike many events of my childhood, I have many memories associated with this trip (maybe not many as others would define many), including the day trip to the beach (the name of which escapes me) with Fraser and Stevie & Uncle Terry, who came equipped with a very fancy camera. All day long he snapped photos of us as we played, blissfully unaware of the lens. A few months later we received a slide show (those were the days of a simpler technology, sigh!) and an accompanying script, putting all of our antics in context. I wish the slideshow were embedded right here in this post, but although I have scanned all the slides and attempted to make a movie of it, I encountered some tech problems and have not found the time to resolve them. Yet. I have vowed to Fraser & Stevie that it will get done. The last photo of the series is this one of Dad. The angular profile, the stance, the camera slung around his neck... iconic. February 5th marked the one year anniversary of what would be Dad's last trip to the hospital. I think now how we went along thinking that this was just another hic in his illness. Not so. I will spend February reliving the markers that line the road to February 26th when he took his last breath. It will be cathartic.

We Burns children were lucky to have such a Dad & Mum.

For this I am grateful, every single day, I am grateful.