|Seen here with my dads parents, my truly amazing grandparents.|
My Mommy knit my sweater. I LOVED that purple thing.
This photo confirms that I was clearly born to be a Prince fan!
TAKEN: Spring 1973
I was born in a very small town, just across the Ontario border, in western Quebec.
It was a small pulp and paper town, where the majority of my extended family grew up. More importantly, it was where both sets of my parents parents lived only a few miles apart.
I had a great childhood. With such vivid memories imbedded in my head before we moved to Ontario. Oh the wonderful memories I have of 222 2nd Avenue.
Spending time in the lane with my Pepere as chickadees landed on his hat and then he ultimately had them eating from his hand. Him teaching me to stepdance as he played from a fiddle he had in fact crafted himself.
And that my Memere, always let me stand by her side at the stove explaining her process for what she was making. Her letting me shake the flour mixture to help her make gravy stands out the most.
So much so, that every time I watch my mother-in-law embrace the same process, my childhood in that kitchen comes rushing back to me.
Let's face it. I know those things may read as simple, but their love was heartfelt and I think they are one of the reasons that I have never had issue showing affection as an adult.
I suppose there is a possibility they were just pacifying a gregarious kid - but if that was the case, they never let on.
And for that... I have always been truly grateful.
That does look like a cool sweater you had.ReplyDelete