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                For many years now our contact with our Pennsylvania family has been limited to our annual Easter visit, when Anna and I would always stay at the home of sister Bunny and her husband Eugene. I always explained to friends in Toronto that besides family, the drive down Rte 15  was special at Easter because spring down there arrives two weeks earlier than up here in Canada, so that while we’re lucky to see a crocus in our yard, forsythias and daffodils would await us in Eugene’s garden. Much more than that, though, was the warm hospitality that we always found at the end of the day’s drive and throughout the weekend. Eugene’s smile always awaited us, even though his body might have been wracked with pain. I remember fondly the joys of our simple country walks together as Eugene would remind me of Pennsylvania life, from pheasants to politics, and the changes taking place since I left the state in the 1960’s. The conversation always included updates with good news about his children, Christie and Clint, in whom he took a justifiable pride. I remember the warm humor he shared with Bunny at home, his willingness to guide us to old places I had known but almost forgotten, the John Deere models decorating the house, and the joy he expressed when describing his visits to family in Kansas. But overlying all of these pleasant details, I remember a humble, warm-hearted, easy-going , loving husband and father  who I’m both proud and pleased to claim as my kin.