1991

Posted on Sunday, July 31st, 2011 at 7:00 am

20 years ago today, my world changed; I think I became someone else.  I am the baby of a family of 3, 2 years apart one from the other.  I think I had a nice youth.  I never really missed of anything although were not the richest on the street.  My mother was part to f the cleaning crew at the Canadian Border Services Agency training facility in Rigaud while my father was a long distance truck driver in the Windsor/Quebec corridor with the occasional trips to the Bay James.  In order to get the small luxury items every kid in school had or wanted, we (the 3 kids) learned to work young.  It was really not my cup of tea but I did appreciate the few dollars landing in my pockets after mowing lawns, emptying garbage bins and preparing the potatoes to be fried at the local burger joint.  Life was ok.  I eventually landed working in the gift shop of Our Lady of Lourdes shrine.  It was a lame job but with regular hours right on my home street.  I did that for 2 years.

I never connected much with my father.  Being with my dad typically meant working in the yard or chopping wood for his fireplace wood business, which I hated.  You would think that with all the hours spent working weekends together we would have found something to talk about.  I never connected like my brother did and I was always envying that.  It did not really matter.  I kept telling myself that I would eventually hit puberty and the hormones would make me wish I was living far and away from home anyway.  None the less, deep down, I liked the guy very much.

On July 29th 1991, I came back from work from the shrine and my dad was there.  He stopped by on his way to the Bay James.  When I walked in the house, he asked me if I wanted to go with him.  2 days in the truck; me, him, the road, Willy Nelson and Kenny Rogers.  Did I ever wanted to say yes.  A few hours before that, my boss had ask me if I could work the next day do the inventory and I said yes.  I was now facing the dilemma of taking the roadtrip offer and letting down my boss or declining the offer and stick to the previous commitment.  I was 16 and I knew the 2nd option would make my father proud to see that I was capable of sticking to commitments.  “Nah, maybe next time Dad”.  He smiled at me, kissed my mom, told her he would see her in 2 days, got in the truck and hit the road.

I would still give everything in the world for 5 more minutes.  This was the last time I saw him, those were the last words I ever got to say to him.

In Memoriam

Simon Brazeau

July 14th 1945 – July 31st 1991

One Response

  1. Victoria says:

    No matter how many years pass, losing someone we love always leaves a void that just never seems to go away. I also long for just 5 more minutes, or the chance to say, “I love you” one more time… but knowing that I can’t ever go back has changed the way I look forward…

    I’m sure your dad was proud of you back then and would be even more proud of you today… to see the man, the husband and the father that you have become.

Leave a Reply on the Blog

%d bloggers like this: