Streetcars, cars, bikes, buggies and cabs with new-found purpose move through 5 O'clock traffic.

Fifty feet of grass, with a few bald spots where, Mother Nature shows herself.

Only a few leaves are on the ground as this is the first few days of fall. 

Large trees are shading all of it and me.

Only a few other people, as well as a few lucky dogs, have discovered this sanctuary in the city.

Tired civil workers, move steadily through cattle fences and in an instant, become, like everyone else. 

The peace they just passed through is replaced with a pace they will have to find the energy for.

Am I looking with my Mother's eyes, looking at what she would if she were here?

Only a few short weeks have passed since she left us. 

My thoughts are with her now like at other times, so strong that I feel she may not only be with me but in me too.

Do you like it here?

Do you see what I see?  

Or am I now showing you what I see and hear.

Horns, sirens, garage alerts, TTC bells and squealing metal. 

But through it all… music. 

Not sure if it is under everything or over it. 

They're playing a melody I am almost remembering, but it hardly matters.

A lone guitarist is serenading hundreds of passersby and me, not going anywhere for the moment. 

Do they even hear it? 

Do you hear it?

Fifty feet away I too will pass through the cattle fence, find the energy and make my way home.

This was a nice 30 min with you mom…let's do it again sometime. 

What place shall I show you next?

Barbara

When I was just a little girl

I asked my mother, what lies ahead

Will I be pretty, will I be rich

Here's what she said to me.

Que Sara, Sara

Whatever wil be, will be

The future's not ours to see

Que Sara, Sara

What will be, will be.

When I was not so young, I fell in love

I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead

Will we have rainbows, day after day

Here's what my sweeheart said.

Que Sara, Sara

Whatever will be, will be

The future's not ours to see

Que Sara, Sara

What will be, will be.

Now I have nieces & nephews of my own

They ask ther aunt, what will I be

Will I be handsom, pretty or rich

I answer tenderly.

Que Sara, Sara

Whateverwill be, will be

The future's notours to see

Que Sara, Sara

What will be, will be.

Dear Mom,

One of my earliest memories with you was my first day of school.  I was terrified so you walked with me to school.  You said you would be there after school and at the end of the day when I ran out of school you were there waiting for me.  You have always been there for me and our family whenever we needed you.  There are many stories we could all share but there should have been many more years still ahead for all of us to be with you.  We all love you and will always remember the unconditional love you had for your family.

With all our love, Leslie.