My Father II

I grew up in a small city in Ontario about five hours from Toronto and even now I can barely think of it without feeling sick or depressed. I met my darkness in my home town and no matter the amount of years that pass me by, I just can't forget that one detail. It's not just my darkness that makes me leery, it's the other bad memories that pile up to make the entire trip feel like an exercise in emotional torture. I never fail to drive by the houses I used to live in and through my old neighbourhoods. I do still have some sense of fondness when I see the house I lived in when I learned to ride by bike, or the park I used to go to at least twice a day. I remember thinking it was a long walk to the park and now I can see my old house from he top of the slide and it wasn't far at all...now those places feel lost to time. The grass has overtaken the park and it appears to be the perfect metaphor for my feelings towards going home.

I stopped in Saskatchewan to pick up my brother and nephew...there is no way I could do this trip alone and luckily I don't have to....