December 26, 2014. Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico. Memory.

A memory is a wonderful thing but it is not perfect. I remember things wrong and I reorganize the events and I eliminate anything negative. For instance, 1963 would not possibly have occurred at our north Toronto flat with Wendy crawling around the floor because she was born in 1957. But our flat was nicer in 1963 so somehow I imagined us entertaining the family in that flat. It must have been in 1958, when we lived on Bleeker Street. It does make sense that the floors were dirty too because I was cleaning my own house. By 1963 I had a cleaning lady. It may be that Ken tied the fancy surgical knots in 1963 and I just combined the two events in my mind. Ken was selling bread between college and medical school in 1958 so it may have all occurred in South Rosedale. By 1961 when Kenny, my nephew, was born close to Christmas, Ken was in medical school. We arrived at Dave and Irene for the holidays to find Irene in hospital with the new babe Kenny. It was too late for visiting hours, so Ken and Dave went to the hospital anyway. Ken wrapped a stethoscope around his neck and the two walked through the hospital with no problems. They gleefully reported to us every fact about the beautiful new baby, Kenny. And of course they said that Irene was fine too. Joyful events. Joyful Chrismas past.