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  • Writer's pictureClarke Wallace

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY-YOU BET!

My mom never liked Mother’s Day! Ugh. “It’s a total waste of time, effort,”

she’d grumble. We, my older sister, Anne and I would shrug it off

knowing she enjoyed us making a fuss about it.

Louise Wallace. Born in Rosedale, that uppity part of Toronto. She

went to Bishop Strachan Private School and would later marry

an Anglican clergyman from the small village of Woodbridge, Ontario.

His father represented the area as an elected Member of

Parliament in Ottawa.

My dad, a dashing figure of a guy, must’ve swept my mom off

her feet when he asked her to marry him.

What a woman. Straight out of Rosedale to become a cleric’s wife.

And loved by everyone around her.

My sister Anne came along first, then me. What did they call me? Nathaniel

Clarke Wallace (#3). ‘Clarke’ for short.

It was my mother who took over when my dad died. She gave me

the balls, as it were, to make sure I wouldn’t be pushed around.

When my wife Rosanne and I had a son, what did we call him?

Nathaniel Clarke Wallace (1V) aka Nathaniel. Nat for short.


Writer’s comment: There was something Louise (Lockhart) Wallace

insisted on with me growing up. She let me make my own choices.

Even when she knew all hell would break loose every now and again.

My mother, long gone but in no way forgotten.

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