Your Home Town.

Happy Anniversary, Bob!

As I sit and contemplate the years that have passed and dream about the ones still yet to come I think of one word; grateful.  Anyone who is married knows that every moment over 46 years is not perfect.  But the fact remains, we got through the imperfect moments to create a perfect life together.  As we have been back and forth to the island a bit more recently it has brought back memories, especially the ones you have shared with me.   This one's for you, Bob:

Your Home Town:

We saunter up and down Main Street.
Its real name is Dunsmuir, but no one calls it that
And maybe the only reason I know this
Is because this is the street you grew up on.

I can almost feel the pain in my butt
from the dog that jumped the fence
bit you
and then hopped right back over
while you delivered papers.

I can smell the smells of Frelone's grocery store
on a Saturday morning,
as you use that hard earned cash from your paper route
To buy the potato chips with the football coin inside.

I know it always makes you smile
when you tell the story
of leaving the church for your paper route
Capitalism over-taking religion.

I know from the stories and the pictures
of your many basketball victories
hard won in the old hall
made that much more precious because your dad was the coach.

You never got the chance to play hockey
but you played a mean game of football down at the park
Kicking, passing, running
playing offence and defence
sometimes all by yourself.

I know of the time you sat on the dock
at the family cabin
fishing rod out,
waiting for the big one
And when you saw it swim by
you yanked the lure out
not sure about what you'd do
if you actually caught it

I know the route you took to school
and the names of your childhood friends
I know they too could shoot
from downtown (although not quite as well as you).

Because of you
I know my way to Camp,
Allen's Lake
and Mr. Peck's
the best candy store EVER.
I know where you were when JFK was shot
and when Paul Henderson scored that famous goal.

I wasn't around for most of these memories
but I've walked these streets with you
hand in hand
listening to you remember the stories of your boyhood
watching the changing expressions
on your face as each memory is recited

Sometimes I even feel like I WAS there.

This is just one of the gifts you have
given me over the years
the gift of your sharing it all with me
your own real "Home" town.
full of happy growing up years
the kind you can only have if your roots run deep.

And I thank you for this
and for all the years between
then and now where we have shared
our own home town and our own growing up years.

Thank you.