Friday, March 18, 2016
My fondest memories of Chris are from our childhood days. I remember the many afternoons Chris, Wendy, and I spent playing around the lych gate of St. Paul's Anglican Church in Middlechurch creating characters and story plots without end. We celebrated Victoria Day with family get togethers where we watched as adults lit fireworks into the night sky and we were allowed to write our names in the darkness with sparklers. We took turns riding up and down the sidewalk at our home on Waverley Street on the lone tricycle, one peddling, one clinging tightly on the back, and one waiting anxiously for her turn. There were carefree afternoons at the Selkirk pool which was our reward for shelling seemingly endless numbers of pails full of pea pods from Chic's garden. One time Jack took the three of us to see the movie Frankenstein at the drive-in theatre, likely on orders from Ena or Chic. We were scared silly and shook all night on the double bed we shared when visiting. Those days were filled with laughter, fun, and friendship among cousins. The sound of Chris's laugh will always stay with me, as will her compassion for lonely, lost, or injured animals. Chris holds a unique and honored spot in my heart.
