Once upon a time;

In the early 1960's, in the city of Montreal Canada, there was a young Caucasian woman. She was in her early 20's, and at that young age was already a  popular country music singer..

After a show one night, one of her band mates suggested they all check out this jazz club that was close by. And so they did.. 

While there, she met this jazz pianist. I want to say, an "African American" man, because in this age of political correctness, it is considered inappropriate and even racist to refer to a person as a"Black Man", but he was neither African nor American. In truth his back ground was from Barbados, and he was Canadian.

How we choose to refer to him isn't really important.... The important thing, is that they met.

Those of you who believe in "Love at First Sight", will probably understand what transpired that night.

It was a cold winters night, and his hands were cold. The fingers of a pianist need to be limber and loose... One can not be trying to move stiff and cold fingers while preforming an instrument such as a piano.

He was about to go on stage and preform, and he was trying to warm his hands so he could play his instrument, and she.. The woman and fellow musician, helped him, the only way she could think... She cupped his hands in hers, and with her warm breath, warmed his fingers.

I have heard this tale a few times in my life, and I'm pretty sure, that for him, that was his  "Love at First Sight" moment.

They became pretty inseparable after that....They became a couple, and then, they became more.

These days, that wouldn't be much of a big deal at all.... But those days were not these days.  It was not yet acceptable for a Caucasian woman to be with a man who was not.

To protect both of them, this woman spent every available moment in the sun..... Tanning.. She did not use SPF 50, or 30 or even 10... The suntan lotion she used was Crisco... The vegetable oil/lard used to make pies and other baked goods.... She did it to attract more sun, and passed herself off as a woman of colour.

I heard this story when I was a child, and I asked why? I was young, and knew very little of racism and hate.

With a sad smile, I was told, that it would have been far less safe otherwise.

This story doesn't have a happy, or sad ending.... Because it's real life.. I can't tell you that the relationship lasted forever, because it didn't.

I can tell you, that for a time, they loved each other with all their hearts. And from that love came two children. Me, being the first, and my Brother being the second.

Why it didn't last forever, I do not know, nor have I asked....  

Maybe, they grew apart,or maybe the judgments of the world around them became too much to bear...  I don't know, and honestly, I don't really think it's any of my business.....

But, I love that story, and there are parts of it, that I carry with me and I have learned from...

Because of that, I know, that true love exist... Maybe not for everybody, but for some..

And I know, that when it happens.... There are no obstacles that can't and won't be over come, and anything less, is "settling".


To that end, while my parents will never likely read this...I want to say;


Thank You Mom and Dad, for your story, for your example, and the lessons that it taught me.


I love you both.