In 1993 I drove from Toronto to Calgary to set up shop and start a new adventure. I didn’t know anyone here except my brother Hal and his family. But I did have one person’s phone number—a friend of a friend’s in Ontario. So when I arrived, it was a Tuesday, I called the number. Tracey picked up and we talked about her plans for the weekend and we enjoyed an excellent trip to Fernie. I still remember what she was wearing, white shirt, red shorts and birkenstocks.
She’s always been the roots. And I’ve always been the wings. She’s grounded, a planner, organized. I take risks, plans are strictly optional. Ever since that first call, we’ve always had these different roles.
She gives me roots. A home. Grounding.
I give her wings. A little adventure.
And you know what? After 19 years it still works like a damn.