When my parents moved to Canada, they were the only ones who ventured more than a 100 kilometre radius away from Tilburg. With the exception of my missionary aunt and uncle who left for Africa, everyone else stayed in the city or established homes in nearby Waalwijk, or Goirle, or St. Michelsgestel. Uncle Herman wasContinue reading “What can we give them?”
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A Life Lived
*reposted with permission of the author, Dr. Bohdan Kordan Obituary A Life Lived Fenna (Kapeluch) Kordan Wife. Mother. Grandmother. Survivor. Born on April 6, 1918 in Vyslik Velykyj, Galicia, Austro-Hungarian Empire; died December 13, 2020, in Toronto, under COVD conditions. Fenna Kapeluch was born in the Carpathian mountain village of Vyslik Velykyj during the 1918 fluContinue reading “A Life Lived”
Sisters
Several pages in a photo album dedicated to my mother and her siblings is populated with photographs of my Tante Lina from her time as a missionary nun in the Congo. Whereas my father would describe particular stories of my Uncle Kees related to his time in Uganda, I cannot recall anything similar about TanteContinue reading “Sisters”
All I’ve got is a photograph
One of my projects in retirement has been to digitize and organize our family collection of photographs. The idea arose after my Dad’s passing last year. Everyone in the family had gathered their favourite pictures for the screen display at the the funeral home, played on a loop for all the visitors. At the sameContinue reading “All I’ve got is a photograph”
The streets have no names
Verifying the third “fact” about Fr. Kees de Cock proved to be the most difficult challenge as I embarked on a hunt to discover the street bearing his name. My first step was to conduct a Google map search of Kampala, the city where my Dad believes the street is located. I have employed GoogleContinue reading “The streets have no names”
Please don’t call me Sir
I had more faith in my father’s second “fact” about Uncle Kees being recognized by the Queen. I had doubts, however, having never seen any evidence. I am unclear about the basis of my father’s faith, whether or not my parents had seen any pictures or were simply repeating the information as relayed to themContinue reading “Please don’t call me Sir”
You too could be President
It’s after eight o’clock on Friday evening, November 6, three days after the close of the polls and we still do not know who will be President of the United States. I have been following the numbers since Wednesday morning, watching them change as the mailed in and absentee ballots are being counted. I startedContinue reading “You too could be President”
Building pillars
The information about Uncle Kees arrives in dribs and drabs, in no particular pattern and from a variety of sources. The stories from my Dad were the beginning, leading to different forms of inquiry with little basis except that Uncle Kees was part of the Mill Hill Missionaries, stationed in Uganda in the town ofContinue reading “Building pillars”
Life is a highway
I want to drive it all day long. Alas, all good things must come to an end. It was a gorgeous fall day; temperature hit 21, sun and cloud, warm breeze. The forecast was calling for single digit highs and below freezing nights for the next week. It will not be long before we willContinue reading “Life is a highway”
Server to everyone
My Dad spoke often of his older brother, my uncle, Fr. Kees de Cock. Dad would repeat one of three “facts”: a building was named after Uncle Kees; he was recognized by the Queen (of Netherlands); and they named a street after him in Kampala. As a young adult, I took these statements for granted,Continue reading “Server to everyone”
Wonderings 