Fireworks are such a glorious celebration. It’s difficult not to forget yourself and enjoy them.
For Canada Day we met up with friends and walked to Spencer Smith Park. With the rain spitting down, it seemed as though the evening might be a bust. But instead, the clouds cleared and accompanied by such songs as “What a wonderful world,” the colours and lights exploded against the sky. What an inspirational spectacle of exileration.
Here’s my young looking boss and friend Tiziana Buttignol holding her grandson. I told her she looked like a filmstar breezing into Toronto for the festival. Although I’ve worked for her five years, most of our communication is by email.
Not surprising, I suppose, that I learned via email of her death Monday June 29. A heart attack should only happen to overweight smokers
or 92 year olds who have no one to look after them. It’s not fair.
And I still catch myself going to email her with ideas or articles I’ve seen that maybe could translate into a piece for our magazine. Her emails seem so alive to me.
Now the rest of us have the most difficult job of putting out an issue without her at the helm.