"If I come back"

September 6, 2019

…And she waited

He said, "If I come back and you're still interested in me, then we'll continue our get together. And she waited. I had in my mind, this is the girl I'm coming back to".

It was 1944, he was nineteen, and departing soon for Europe to contribute his service within the Canadian Military during WWII.

His appeal grew on the small town preacher's daughter, despite her being unimpressed at his smooth skating skills on the outdoor rink. She initially thought he was a show-off. Turned out he wasn't really that kind of a guy.

He came back to his girl, they married, and raised four children.

My parents are celebrating seventy two years together today. Last year they celebrated by going to Tim Horton's - just the two of them - in a nearby town. This year, maybe a walk down the hall or a few hours out to dinner. Humble beginnings, humble celebrations.

Their marriage has been the best example anyone could have. I count my blessings for their influence. I took the strength of this foundation for granted in my early years, I now know it's a rarity.

For many years, my family and I used to stay with them at their home during our visits and continually witnessed their commitment to one another, and unending love and respect.

Settling down in the dark of night, hearing aids out and carefully placed on the counter, we would overhear "Goodnight Shirley. I love you". "I love you too", Mom would reply.

We're honored to celebrate you, Mom and Dad!

Bob & Shirley Otterman
September 6, 1947

When you have to pivot

May 26, 2018

Dad sat in his chair in front of the big picture window and looked out to the world he could appreciate for the first time since he was admitted to the hospital. He sighed, closed his eyes as he put his head back, and grinned with relief and joy.

His three week stay enabled him to gain strength and get rid of an infection that - well, beat him up.

The unfortunate timing of his illness meant that he would not be going on the trip he was so looking forward to. It was to be another visit for he and six other WWII Canadian Veterans back to the beloved Netherlands they helped to liberate in 1945.

A roller coaster of thoughts and emotions preceded my husband, two teenage children, and me, as we boarded the flight to Amsterdam. We were no longer going to accompany Dad, but instead be his eyes and ears.

True to form, the people of the Netherlands, in the City of Leeuwarden, Province of Friesland, were incredibly gracious, treating the Veterans with great love and respect. My children got to witness the outpouring of kindness, and see how important it was for the Dutch people to have direct connection with the Veterans and their families. They are grateful for their freedom, and they have made it their mission never to forget it's price.

My brother and I brought Dad home the day after we returned from the trip. From his chair he watched as we displayed photographs of events he missed and people he knew, and video clips of friends sending him caring messages from afar.

I held fast to the belief that my father would get well in time to travel with us and didn't want to accept that he couldn't. I had to pivot and let go. It wasn't meant to be.

We carried love across the ocean. And we carried it back with us and delivered it. Love is great to receive no matter where you sit and ponder it's power.

how can you preserve and celebrate what matters most?

Learn More

An interview with my father in 2017, produced by Deborah and Ted Parks of PSquared Cinefilms

Musician Eddy Dykstra serenades us on the patio of the Klinze hotel as we prepared to return to Canada, May 2018

The trip to the Netherlands in 2015 inspired me too... Here's a video of what it motivated me to create

Our human connection

March 9, 2018

...is sometimes difficult to ignore

She realized she couldn't meet her friend at the time they had planned.

When the phone rang she was relieved to hear Deborah wondering if the date could be changed... to the same weekend she herself was going to propose.

They hadn't seen each other for a few years and Chicago seemed like a great place to get together to celebrate their friendship. She was traveling from Ontario, Deb was traveling from Missouri.

They met on the first weekend in June, 1994.

They were tired after exiting the Art Institute of Chicago, but nearby the Blues Festival was in full swing, where thousands of people crammed Grant Park. They grabbed a beer and she led Deb through the crowd then stopped and stood listening to the music and feeling the sunshine. They stood in front of a group of people, friends to one another. A handsome man initiated conversation.

We met in Chicago on the first weekend in June, 1994.

Bill was in a serious relationship, I had just gotten out of one. He lived in New Hampshire, I lived in Ontario.

Our lives collided. The connection was so strong there was no ignoring it. I felt as though we had known each other our whole lives. And the discovery of details diminished uncertainty. My birthday was the same as Bill's deceased father's. Our mothers' birthdays were the same date, five years apart. His great-grandparent's names were Bill and Emily. Bill had quit smoking the day he flew to Chicago, and believe me when I say I would not have given him the time of day if he smoked.

We were married three years later.

And recently we celebrated our twenty-first wedding anniversary. We're enjoying some incredible experiences with two children we love with all our hearts. We are blessed, and I am so grateful.

Never underestimate the power of connection. To fellow human beings, to friends, to family, to lovers, to strangers.

Have you felt a powerful connection to someone that was difficult to ignore? Celebrate it!