I was raised in Montreal, and lived most of my life in the city of a hundred bell towers. When I was a teenager, my father worked as a superintendent in a posh downtown highrise located in the Golden Square Mile. It paid little, but it provided our family with a roof over our heads. … Continue reading
Writing about the life and death of my father proved to be an arduous task. Before tackling The Blues and the Abstract Truth, I revisited previous posts on the man: from his birth in extreme poverty to his tragic death, his life was a sad one. If you were to pick up his biography in … Continue reading
This post is written for Brother Jon‘s Funny Dad Friday installments. My dad was born into a Catholic family: he was the first child and had ten siblings—all girls. At the age of 11, he was taken away from his school desk and was presented with his first job—eleven mouths to feed don’t come cheap, choices were … Continue reading