A NEW LEARNING
It’s my daughter’s birthday. Today my little girl is forty years old.
We lived in Mississauga forty years ago. While I was completing my pastoral training Christine was great with child. We had nothing. We lived in two rooms of Mrs. Stoll’s rambling large home as payment for a few hours of my service in a church. Graciously, Mrs. Stoll permitted Christine to use her piano and sitting room to teach a few music students. For those months our as yet unborn daughter heard Christine’s music.
If our baby was a girl, her name would be Carinne May. Her middle name a tribute to her maternal Grandma. Then she came. A long difficult coming. Maternity units forty years ago were no place for dads it was believed. I was impounded in the waiting room and ventured only briefly into Christine’s agony. My first glimpse of Cari came as our doctor brought her to me, not to hold, merely to see. She was simply, unforgettable, blue eyes bright, soft white hair. Primal medical sensibilities placed my tightly wrapped girl in a generic container behind a windowed room full of other baby containers. My father stood at the glass for a long time looking at his first grandchild.
During her early years music was a constant in our home. As no surprise, Cari showed interest in the piano. As she grew, her dedication and enjoyment at making music were promises of things to come. We moved to Smiths Falls, to Peterborough and to Scarborough and in each location Cari’s music filled our home. And then she was gone to university in Winnipeg and I was crushed. I wasn’t prepared to be Cari-free. During her studies in Winnipeg and her brother’s studies in BC, Christine and I relocated from Toronto to Cloverdale BC.
Upon graduation Cari joined us in Cloverdale, worked part-time while she earned a
Master of Piano Performance degree at Western Washington University. Then this gorgeous gal lived with her mom and dad, year after year, through her twenties until Christine and I were asking ourselves, “What’s wrong with this scene?” And along came Tim. Then along came Tim.
Cari was twenty-nine when she held my arm to walk down the aisle on her wedding day. We walked to a highly emotional song from the movie ‘The Mission.’
And here she is today, a wife and a mother of three children, aged four, six, and eight. My girl. 40. And don’t I feel old, and HAPPY! She has blessed my life. I love her.
She is a published scrapbooking artist and member of the design team for
Canadian Scrapbooker. You can see her work on her blog,
Me and My Thoughts and various websites:
ScrapvillageCreative ExpressClass Dates and ProjectsCreative ImaginationsPencil Lines
I went to Harry and Sons Barber in Cloverdale - Last week Christine scheduled an appointment for me with Troy at Michaud's, her hair salon. Well, not actually Michaud's since Troy has opened his barbershop next door to his ‘Michauds’.We discussed what he would do. Then he did it. Ohhh! Listen, hair cuts pour moi are non-essential. The top is barren soil. I manage the sides with an electric trimmer, as with the beard. But this … this was cloud floating. First, the golf green lawn mowing, short, short all over, head and face. Then hot towels on my face, and fragrant oils, then straight razor smooth as silk, and another hot towel & more delicate razoring, then a cold towel. $54 plus a $10 tip. It's a lavish experience. I will do it again, after I get a few more landscape and portrait commissions. -- Oh, and my daughter, Cari Unruh Locken, created the signage.
