My father’s medium, the element wherein he came alive was air. His passion was flying. His achieved rank in the Royal Canadian Air Force was flight lieutenant, equivalent to captain or lieutenant in contemporary armed forces terminology. My dad never knew or met his father, Lorance Thomas Morrow because my grandfather enlisted in the army, fought, and was killed in the First World War in 1917 never making it home to see his new-born son. In turn, my dad enlisted with the RCAF sometime after the outbreak of World War Two. My father would have been in his mid-20s when he enlisted and subsequently fought in the War, a fact…

My musings about life and meanings in my life and the lives of others often takes me home, tumbling sometimes. Phil Collins’ Take Me Home – its syncopated, back-beat rhythm and his lyrics – tell me he can’t remember, whereas I hunger to re-member, put my breath back and hone my memories into a sharper perspective. Mostly I see, in my mind’s eye, events, people, concepts, moments…flashes of elements that shape how I think and feel about this miracle that is life. And so for this, my first tumblehome blog, what lures me and has been calling my attention for some time is this image of my mother and her…