my friends father Abe was in the royal winnipeg rifles during WW2. several times that unit has been decimated almost to the man. Abe survived the war and came back to winnipeg in 1945. he left his home town when he could no longer look into the eyes of every mother he would meet who lost a son. there was a lot of them. Abe told me that in those days everyone knew every one and with great frequency these women would hug him and cry for the loss of their sons. why did you survive and my son did not? this was a question asked him on a daily basis. it was not meant to be an accusation but a sorrowful inquiry why one survived and another died. so abe flipped a coin,heads east tails west and he ended up in prince rupert for several years and finally edmonton. i got to know andrew,Abe's son and finally Abe himself. he understood what had to be done and had no regrets and although it was a dark period of time he also had many fond memories of those days of which he told me many stories,Abe was a magnificent story teller and a walking encyclopedia,the knowledge that man had. he died 2 years ago and accordingly with jewish tradition he was buried within 24 hours so i could not attend his funeral. he was a link to that time and the world is just a wee bit dimmer now that he is gone.

remember because all too soon they shall all be gone.