"…the death of someone you love is always a shock…,"
Robert lifted his hands from the typewriter keys and rubbed his temples and the bridge of his nose where his new glasses pinched. It was kind of people to write and offer their sympathy on the death of his wife, but sometimes it was difficult to put his own feelings about her death into words. She had been ill for a very long time.
He paused to consider his next words to his old friend, Reverend Moss, and looked out the window of his study at the snow covered yard of his Calgary home. It was a bright February day with a high thin overcast and quick clouds scudding ahead of a winter storm. The clouds parted briefly and a quick flash of gold at the edge of his desk caught his eye. Jennie's letter seal lay there, a tiny pretty thing that she had worn on a chain around her neck. The face was incised with a thistle and the words 'Dinna Forget'.
"Dinna forget, dinna forget…" How could he forget? There was so much to remember , so many journeys, so many stories.
What did the flash of gold remind him of? He smiled and leaned back in his chair, letting his mind drift back over half a century to a grand home in Sudbury, Ontario…