Note: The names in the following dramatized story have been changed, but the events described are basically as told to me by one of the people involved.
Don’t Forget Me
Jeremy and Catherine were excited to move into the old house downtown. Part of a string of older side-by-sides on a short back street, the house was dwarfed by the tall buildings all around, but retained its’ old world charm. If you stood in the middle of the street and looked at their home, you could almost imagine you were back in 19th century Toronto, where horses still pulled delivery vans, and the houses were heated by coal and wood. Of course if you then looked up or behind you, the illusion vanished in a maze of concrete and steel.
Sure, the house needed some work, as all 100 year old houses might, but those repairs would have to wait, for their priority at the moment was their new-born child.