Brother Broken


Photo taken at John's funeral May 1990: 
Front row l to r, Pauline (Pauly), Mom, Dad, me (Céc) , with John's photo between Mom and Dad.
Back row l to r, Mitch, Gerard (Gus), Roger (Rod), Denis

Good morning Sunshine.

I think it's time for you to meet the family.

Dad was a WWII vet. He had served in the Royal Canadian Navy. After the war, he pedalled a bicycle four hundred miles north of his parents’ home in Gravelbourg, Saskatchewan. He bought land and started a farm.

Dad caught the eye of my mom with his drop-dead good looks. She was the cute little farm girl whose family lived nearby. She stole his heart, and they married in 1949.

Marguerite and Jean were their names, but most people called them Margaret and John, the Anglicized version of their French names. They were French-Canadian Catholics, expected to populate with more French Catholics, so they started une famille.

Their first-born was my sister, Pauly. After Pauly came Rod, Denis, John, me, Mitch, and Gus. Two parents, seven kids. My family calls me “Céc,” which sounds like “pace,” not “peace.”

Brother Broken

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