Wonder where I was Jan 7, 1960? Probably back as SFHS after my first visit home for the holidays. Now heading to Boston to help Lisa. Sue didn’t want me driving alone. The overnight bus should get me there in my sleep. Sitting in the Toronto Bus Terminal I remember the many stop overs and bus changes here. 2-3-4 hour waits to Buffalo. Shorter waits the other way. Remember sitting here. Remember wandering a few blocks around here. Mike Biskup and I would sometimes get a juice on Yonge St. Most stops seemed to be in the evening. We’d hear great music coming out of the Brown Derby.
The noise, the smell of diesel, the cold, the waiting in line. Somethings never change. The restaurant was better. The benches more comfortable than these seats. Crowd isn’t much different, except for the cell phones. Everyone talks, but not to the people they see.
When I get on the bus, the memory of mom and dad waving good bye from the platform in Montreal is so clear I can smell their hugs.
Thirty six years later. Beginnings and endings and cycles anew.
mielniczuk 