Twenty years ago today, Vera’s brother Peter was buried. He was 42. (In the image on the left, Peter occupies the centre, with Vera on his right, and brother John on his left.) He had been diagnosed with MS (Multiple Sclerosis) at the tender age of 14. He wasn’t expected to live as long as he did but his heart was strong and his character shone a bright light on the rest of us; we couldn’t feel sorry for ourselves, when we thought of him.
He complained about the lack of wheelchair access in commercial buildings; other people confined to wheelchairs have expressed similar observations but I never heard him complain about his life with MS. His woodworking was a testament to superior craftsmanship, even when he couldn’t see well. We are proud owners of a pine chest, a wall-hung mirror, two in fact, and a two door cupboard-style chest that still stands in our hallway.
He loved two women in his life; one married him and nursed him through his last days. Laura couldn’t see, being blind most of her life, but she could see everything she needed to love Peter.
Today, we remember his funeral, held in Peterborough, where he had lived his final months. We would have liked him to meet our grandson, James Ivan Peter named after him but life takes too many crazy turns.
Professional. Retired. Canadian.