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I have so many great memories of playing as a child in Uncle Jim and Aunt Marion’s amazing house, with its cupboard full of games. One particular memory stands out: I must have been 10 or 11, and I had uncle Jim's name for Christmas down home. I decided to knit him a scarf. It took me forever to finish and was still pretty ugly—a grey and black striped thing, inexpertly done. But Uncle Jim, amazing guy that he was, accepted the gift so graciously that I felt it was the most special gift in the world. Even now, I remember how proud he made me feel about my creation, although I am sure he actually appreciated much better the can of Poppycock that went with it.
Uncle Jim, even though we didn’t see each other for a long time, you will always have a special place in my heart.
With love,
Heather Cantin