Now, the apartment itself at Parkway Forest, was not anything special. But what it did for my family is magical.
When my parents immigrated to Canada, they bought a place here. It was home. Not just to them, and to me when I was born, but to everyone in the family. When the troubles in East Africa began, my father helped his family come to Canada and settle. And when they came, they spent some time at Parkway Forest. I haven't met a family member that doesn't have some memory of that place.
My dad's eldest brother passed away this past week. Everyone's in Canada, and I'm heading there. I honestly don't think it's hit me yet, since I'm not there. But ever since I found out what happened, I cannot help but think of my dad and the apartment.
My dad loved his family. He believed it is our duty to take care of one another. He moved to Canada and until the day he died, he tried to help his family and take care of them.
I can't help but think, "damn dad! You went first to set up a place for everyone." My dad has gotten his own Parkway Forest and was ready for when my uncle joined him this weekend. My dad is there to help him settle.
I know it sounds lame, but it brings me comfort. It makes me feel better about not just my dad's passing two years ago, but also that of my uncle's this past weekend.