Monthly Archives: April 2011

The Family Saga

This will be the hardest blog to write because what has happened with my kids is the biggest regret of my life. Those who knew me way back when, when the kids were young, know I was a “family man”. Nothing was more important to me.  I struggled with the fact that my own birth family had packed up and moved out West without me, but my priority was my own family and I accepted that without question.

Yes, I’ve moved around a bit…

My parents moved around a lot when I was just a youngun. We lived for a time at Donalda Farms, which was to eventually become Don Mills. We lived in Ajax. Not sure where else but we eventually moved in with my grandparents at 7 Hugo Avenue in Toronto. My grandfather passed away soon after we moved in. When I was just about to turn twelve we moved out to the country, to a farm house north of Streetsville, now part of Mississauga.

Springtime in London

The forecast said no rain and a temp in the mid teens, so I decided to finally shed my winter coat (it’s been a long, cold winter with record snowfall) and wear my vintage leather jacket for the first time. Not too bad on my way catching buses to the clinic, but when I came out just after two o’clock the wind was picking up and it sure didn’t feel like the temp had made it into the teens as forecast.

Why we refer to our vehicles as “her”

Might be a strange thing to write about, but a vehicle is an integral part of your life, right? My very first car was a Vauxall Viva, a boxy little thing. I paid a whopping $100 for it and worked so lovingly on cleaning it from stem to stern. I barely had it a week when a drunk hit me on Queen Street in Brampton and totaled it.

The People in My Life

One of the biggest regrets of my life is that I lost touch with all of the people who made such a difference in my life. I think this is part of the reason that Facebook is so popular because it allows us to “friend” people and to stay in touch no matter where we go.

Career/Jobs

Not sure exactly why, but I’m one of those people who’ve had a lot of different jobs in my life, from working in a factory to being in Real Estate. Some were great. Some were horrible. I’ve enjoyed being self-employed the most, no question. It’s said that those who are self-employed have an idiot for a boss, and this may well be true, but, for me anyway, I prefer to control my own destiny and I’ve had far too many experiences working a “normal” job that have frustrated the hell out of me. So many companies seem to succeed in spite of themselves and I’ve just never understood why they don’t want to do things better.

The Women in My Life

This is a tough one for me, only because I revere women and my memory isn’t what it used to be, so I am terrified of leaving someone out. I doubt many of them will even remember me, so hopefully that means they won’t be offended. The ones who were special to me know who they are.

THERE WILL NEVER EVER BE ANOTHER YOU

THERE WILL NEVER EVER BE ANOTHER YOU

The world has never seen anyone quite like you before, and it will never see another YOU again. And there is something you have to contribute to the world that the world needs from YOU, no matter how small or unimportant you may think you are, in the great scheme of things. You were born, you are breathing, you are here, because there is something you have to contribute to the world that the world really, really needs. At least in that place, at least at this time, at least with your style, at least with your character and stamp upon it. Someone needs you. Someone’s life has been, or will be, better because of you. Be you a health care professional, a scientist, an engineer, or techie, or digger of ditches, it doesn’t matter. The world needs all these things, but animated specifically by your spirit, your brains, your personality, beneath and in it all.

Your purpose in life isn’t just a matter of what kind of work you do. It’s a matter of who you are, what kind of person you are, and whether you choose to be the best YOU that you can possibly be.

– Richard N. Bolles (What Color Is Your Parachute?)

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