16 Jun Walking With My Father

When my parents would go out on Saturday nights, I'd always anxiously await their return home because it meant my dad and I could go on one of our "night walks".

This is what we called our Saturday night ritual.

Just the two of us, strolling the dark streets of Côte Saint-Luc, sometimes quietly, sometimes chatting about nothing in particular, and often, as I got older, talking about the stresses and concerns of school, friends and boys.

It was during these walks, when I had my dad's unsolicited attention, that he helped me make important decisions and navigate the maze of adolescence and early adulthood.