Ink.

Tomorrow is my Grandpa's birthday. Even though he left us this past summer, parts of him continue to feel present, day in and day out. Grandpa was a writer. A very good writer. The type of writing that you have to read slowly in order to fully grasp his message. Mostly political pieces, where his opinion came through very strongly and you never had to guess what his true feelings really were. They were there, in ink. I admire so much his ability and willingness to publish his thoughts for all to read, even though they were sometimes not the most popular amongst his readers. I think it is so fitting that I am here today, writing more than I have ever before. It has always been something that I like to do, and now, with this blog, I have the capsule to do it in. I think he would like that.

I also think he would like this home. The wood in this house makes me think of him everyday. In addition to being a writer, he was also a gifted handyman and carpenter. He spent hundreds of hours in his workshop at the lake making countless gifts for all his children and grandchildren. There were jewellery boxes, card holders, reindeer plant holders, just to name a few. They were all perfectly crafted and stamped with his personal touch. I still have many of the things he made me and they are all in near perfect condition. Just like the memories we have of his gentle spirit and joyfulness, the pieces he created will never tarnish, never break, never age.

The quote that appears as you enter our home actually came from Grandma and Grandpa's wedding book. It was said at their wedding and it is read each and every day here. Without love, this house is simply a structure, a combination of wood and steel and concrete. Love creates the magic that we experience every day while watching our family grow and enjoying time together. Love makes the tough times easier, the great times fantastic and the every day more special that I could have ever hoped for.