From my position, lying in the back seat of the car, it always seemed to take forever to get to my grandparents’ house just off Victoria Park Avenue in Toronto. I’d know we were close when my mom told me we were passing the airport, and then very close when the green sound barrier fences…
For a number of years, I donned my corporate attire, got in my car in the dark, slipped a thermal carafe of coffee into the holder, and headed south to the city for work. I didn’t mind the commute, I told myself. In fact I enjoyed it. It was time to think. Time alone. Time to decompress. Then along came baby.
My son learned more first-hand than I could have imagined about plants and animals. His garden creation was inspected daily and watered with care. “It’s magic!” he exclaimed.