Centrale Begraafplaats West, Hoflan 150, Tilburg. Section 16,Grave number 10402483. Father Kees de Cock was buried there January 8, 1981. You will not find a stone; it was removed in 2002. If you visit the website and type his name in the search field, no results will appear. I wrote to an address listed inContinue reading “Going Home”
Tag Archives: #writing
Beatitudes
10:55 am. Time to lock up and head over to the chapel, a quick jaunt across the small parking lot between the archives and the Herbert House residence. I am back in Freshfield, England almost two years to the day, combing through the files of the Mill Hill Missionary Society which may hold more informationContinue reading “Beatitudes”
Scrabble
I expect when Mom and Dad immigrated to Canada in 1958, their grasp of English would have been quite limited. Sure, they had learned some very elementary words years earlier in grade school, mandatory language lessons along with German and French. They may have even picked up a few classes in preparation for their flightContinue reading “Scrabble”
Imprints
The Ones Beatles show began with three questions for the Roy Thomson audience: Where were you when John F. Kennedy was shot?Where were you when man first landed on the moon?Where were you when the Beatles played the Ed Sullivan show for the first time? November 22, 1963. I have no clue, the tragedy notContinue reading “Imprints”
Good work if you can get it
“I am going to work. Some of us have a job, you know!” I suppose that is an excuse to rush into a left-hand turn while someone is crossing the road on a green. I had just stepped into the intersection as the walk signal began its countdown. He saw us. How could he not;Continue reading “Good work if you can get it”
A life of books…and books…and more books
The recent passing away of Alice Munro and the subsequent scandal reminded me of a story. I was Chair of General Education, a department responsible for teaching English and Liberal Studies to students in all programs. The diploma requirements for graduation included completion of at least one literature course, a bone of contention for many, andContinue reading “A life of books…and books…and more books”
Private Eyes
The curtain pulls aside. The priest opens the Royal Doors of the iconostas, looks out into the nave then turns around to the sanctuary as the congregation stands, the choir singing. Mass has begun. We have been attending this Ukrainian church since last fall, Olga reconnecting to her roots. I don’t understand a word, saveContinue reading “Private Eyes”
Wake me up before you go-go
What time is it? For that matter, what day is it? The flickering flat screen at the far end of the dining area suggests it could be Sunday. Images of gesticulating men and women, arms raised in praise, swaying to the rhythm of electric guitars, unheard voices singing in unison, a lighted cross in theContinue reading “Wake me up before you go-go”
Looking Back, Looking Forward
December 2021 has come to an end, finishing with my monthly review of books read. The year began in a flurry, ending with a mere trickle in the remaining three months. The last book for the year was a memoir, recommended by the instructor for the writing course. For the same reasons my reading peteredContinue reading “Looking Back, Looking Forward”
You’ve Got Mail
Another Christmas card arrived in the mail today, a welcome alternative to the flyers and bills and requests for money which clutter the box in December. The number of cards sent and received is shrinking but it is a tradition which marks the holiday season in the same manner as purchasing a real tree. ChristmasContinue reading “You’ve Got Mail”
Wonderings 