One of my sisters, the mother of my mother’s grandchildren, remains with Mom and me in Perth for a few more days. I leave tomorrow evening after almost four weeks. Perth has certainly felt like home, more than Toronto, since April 24. We have all been noticing how tired we are. Hardly unexpected, that. Last night I went to bed shortly after nine and slept right through to nearly eight o’clock this morning.
We visited the cemetery yesterday morning. While Craig’s white roses are showing a little wear the mauve irises still looked fantastic.
In what will surely be at least a pair of firsts for Scotch Line Cemetery Craig and Claude’s graves will be marked with an inscription describing them as “compagnons de vie”. Two men acknowledging their love for one another, and in French! Claude has bought a stone similar in design to Mom and Dad’s, only black and gray. My cremated remains will one day be buried in my parents’ plot which has plenty of room minus caskets.
There is also, by the way, a better, much more picturesque road – Allan’s Mill Road – to get to the western side of the cemetery, meaning everyone but the driver can blink as we go past the Kelford Road disgrace, an automobile grave yard which shows no signs of shrinking, on County Road 10 at the fork in the road which splits Scotch Line and Upper Scotch Line. [map]
The lovely stone house and, to a lesser extent, the mill on Allan’s Mill Road are still intact, as well as Allan’s General Store, although no longer operating as originally designed. Below Grant’s Creek, part of the Tay River, flows over peaceful rapids.
The family graves are in the morning shade of a beautiful one-room, stone schoolhouse where Mom’s mother taught many, many (like maybe 65) years ago. The huge tree out front, Mom remembers, was planted during the time “Gammy” spent there.
Claude was planning to go to this afternoon’s regular service of Camino de Emaus, the Spanish-speaking United Church congregation which Craig had been attending in downtown Montreal. It meets at L’Eglise Unie St. Jean on Ste. Catherine St. E. The second language there is Claude’s first (French).
Tonight I’ll do a big laundry before taking an evening train tomorrow for the three-and-a-half hour trip back to Toronto.