Okay, so my family.
My mother died ten years ago, when I was seventeen, but I’m not ready to go there yet. I’d rather talk about other things for now. She was a good person. My Mom would have turned sixty in a couple weeks.
So of course, everything else is about that. My brother Rich lives near our old neighborhood. He’d live in our old house if he could. On the other hand, my Dad moved to Ontario a couple years after Mom died, right after I dropped out of college and went on the road with Dick Parisi.
Rich lives in Richmond. Yeah. He’s ten years older than me. He’s a personal financial advisor. If it weren’t for Rich, I’d have been on the street at times. He manages my money, that way, there is some. And when there wasn’t enough, he let me stay at his house, for almost a year.
I could swing a place right now but my grands offered their cottage so I could save up some cash to have a little something in reserve when work is slow. I think Rich might have put the idea in their heads. Anyway, they’re always watching out for me, since my Mom died.
The cottage is in Cedar Point but it’s not at the point, it’s in the woods on the road back to White Rock, near the town line. It’s only fifteen minutes from town. They open the cottage the first weekend of May and close it the last weekend of October. It has heat, kerosene, but no insulation so you wouldn’t keep it open in winter.
My Gramps is from White Rock. He used to work at Kingfisher Cannery in Cedar Point, was on second-shift forever. My Grams is from the Maritimes originally, New Brunswick. She came out to Vancouver on a scholarship for art school. Never went back east.
They’re really good people, those two.