You’ve got a treasure chest of memories just like me!

Please take my advice – never, ever, give these priceless possessions up.

These memories are a very special part of our lives; at times secret but always ours, always something we can draw on for a bit of a boost, maybe a tear, but almost always a joy to re-live.

When we were starting our marriage and working career, I was asked to accept a position in Montreal. We really didn’t want to go; we declined.

The next time the position ‘was offered a little more strongly’… the third time we were told we were going, so we went. It wasn’t a happy time at first.

The day we arrived and while unpacking in our rented home, I got a call from my rather fanatical boss to tell me to get my butt into work. Now!

I had to leave my wife in a strange province, amongst strangers and get my backside to the office. It was a nasty start to our new lives, but on a much happier note, our sadness was short-lived.

We did, however, have the odd relapse when things weren’t just what we might have wanted.

An example of this was our first Halloween in Quebec. When I took the kids to shell out, we were greeted at every street corner with a no-nonsense member of our military, armed to the teeth, automatic weapons at the ready.

We were thrown into the middle of the FLQ crisis. Not fun.

But time has a way of flying by, and it also has a way of helping to erase bad memories and accent the good ones.

One of our best memories was the purchase of a new house. We moved from an English ghetto in Pointe Claire, to Pierrefonds, a little suburb further out on the west island, and here we had a hoot.

We couldn’t speak a work of French, and some of our neighbours were in the same boat in terms of speaking English, but we had a ball.

We communicated as best we could despite our language problems, and eliminated difficulties through common sense, a desire to be good neighbours, and a willingness to go the extra mile for new friends.

One of the most excruciating moments was when I asked my perfectly bilingual French-Canadian boss to come to our home for dinner.

He was a great guy. We looked forward to having him. At the dinner table my five-year-old son called him a frog! I could have died. As a matter of fact, I think it must have looked like I was going to.

A deathly silence came over the group. We all looked at each other wondering what was coming next, and in the next seconds the silence was shattered with the roaring laughter of my boss. He understood the famous saying …“from the mouths of babes”… forgave my son immediately and showed us all how to handle a situation like a true master.

I wish we all could learn from this outstanding man. Conflicts might evaporate just as he caused a special warmth that night in our home.

We had so many more good things come to us while in Quebec. One of those was a guardian angel for our kids. Tina lived just down the street and became the best babysitter a young family could ask for.

We received a DVD the other day from Tina and her family and it was a perfect illustration of how time flies. The disc showed one of her kids with his friends as they toured Western Canada and the U.S. taking a few seconds of video at each stop.

It seems like yesterday when this young lady took care of our kids, but it was more than 40 years ago.

While on the way to the Maritimes, we stopped off at her house in a beautiful Montreal suburb. We pulled into the driveway wondering how we’d re-introduce ourselves; as we pulled up to the side of the house we spotted Tina at work in her kitchen.

She looked up at us, her face lit up, and she shrieked, “my Gawd, it’s the Swains!”

Time might fly by, but time has a way of preserving in a special way those very special moments and memories we all have.  

Never give up those special memories.

Tina didn’t. We haven’t. We never will.