Carolyn was born in Fort William (now Thunder Bay), Ontario, in 1949 to a pretty nurse from Manitoba who wore a fox fur on nights out with my father, a handsome RCAF pilot. Carolyn’s mother was hard-working and upright and practical, whereas her father liked nothing better than to act like the third child. The first time Carolyn ever heard a pun was from his lips, and he kept effortlessly uttering them almost until his last breath in 1978.
And Carolyn had a brother, David. He was six years her senior and grew to be 6’ 9” tall. It wasn’t until Parkinson’s took him in 2010 that Carolyn fully realized, as did her father, what is sometimes the true value and joy to be found in even temporarily escaping the ruins of fragile human hopes and dreams and mortal limitations. Carolyn hopes people can find this precious piece of joy as they read her little book.