Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Sandra, Diane and Michael
I have been thinking of you for the last few days, and hoping you have lots of supportive people around you. I can only imagine how hard this time must have been for you.
When my mother called to tell me Kevin had died, my mind went back to those years on Sullivan Avenue when we were kids on the edge of town. As I recall, the pavement ended in front of your house. We were at 96 Sullivan Avenue, the first of 4 identical small houses, opposite a field owned by Shevlock [?] dairy. Sullivan Avenue continued lackadaisically for a little way to what seemed like the end of the universe to me: Collier Road.
What I remember most often of those days is Hallowe'en. Sandra, do you remember when we used to go out with bags and pillowcases, fill them up, then lope back home, dump the loot, and run back to wherever we had left off, hopeful of tapping a new vein of sweets? I think sometimes we were forced to bring the younger kids with us on the first foray (Diane, that would be you), but the second time around it was just us old ones.
I also remember the warmth of your home, and the closeness between our mothers, which I think was a great boon to them both, and to us all.
That was all a long time ago, but it was an important time. I remember it, and how we were. I grieve for Kevin, and I think of you.
Roger
