A recollection of my Aunt Marion: Sometimes when my Dad took us to visit his parents, my terribly handsome Uncle Ken would take me, the eldest of 4, for a drive in his hot car, where I got to sit in the front seat and listen to music that was at a much cooler volume than permitted in our family car. I would ask Ken about the earrings that festooned his sun visors and he would tell me which set belonged to which girl he was dating (there were a lot of earrings!). One visit was particularly memorable - I was about 11 – and in the throes of pubescence. When I got in Ken’s car I noticed only one pair of earrings on the visor, but what earrings they were! When I asked who these belonged to, and why only one pair now, Ken explained that these belonged to special girl whose name was Marion. Pretty soon it became evident that Marion was a keeper – first of all she was the only one of Ken’s girls we ever met – and she was brave enough to accompany Ken when he joined our brood at Ipperwash campground. From my vantage point I wondered if I would see Marion again, since I could see that camping was not Marion’s thing, but see her again I did a few months later at their wedding. Marion was a warm and embracing aunt, and since we were only a dozen years apart in age, pretty cool in my estimation. When Ken bought me Beatles tickets for my 13th birthday, Marion made me feel very special when I camped on their sofa for the few days I stayed with them. She even gave me her transistor radio so I could listen to the radio all night – who could sleep in that state of anticipation?! She never laughed at my ridiculous mooning over Paul McCartney, let me check out all her jewelry and seemed keenly interested in my after-concert ravings. When Karen was born, Marian never balked when I wanted to ‘play mommy’ with her new baby, now that’s cool when you are a 14 year-old! All through the years, Marian remained interested in our lives. Our family enjoyed her warmth and kindness and will always remember easy smile and laugh. My deepest condolences to Karen & Rick, but most of all to the grandchildren, who will no longer have the pleasure of her company and who will not understand why they have been robbed of the most loved person in their life. Marie Metcalfe