Home

I have come full circle and in doing so, I must go to Sicily to visit the grave of Capt. George Whitelaw and the place of my Grandad’s nightmare.

Before the ride, my friends Ray & Mark chose to accompany me on this final quest to know Grandad better. As a child I wanted a happy Grandad, one who loved me, like my friend’s grandparents did. My memories were of Grandad sitting in a chair, unapproachable and Grandma, always seeming cross, nagging at me to be quiet. Memories are complicated.

….. And so we go to Sicily.

My friends, Thank you for toasting with me the grave of the man whose death was part of my Grandad’s war story and changed him forever.

I stood in the waters of Pachino Beach, were Grandad landed. We visited all the towns that he helped liberate. We spoke with local people who shared with us special places in their towns.

Every day, we drove past Mount Etna, and the last time we passed this volcano, I remember a story from my childhood. I shared this with Mark & Ray.

When I was in grade 3, I had just received my Scholastic book order from school and in it was a book about a dog and a volcano (Jock’s Island). It happened that on this night, we made our monthly trip down to Toronto to visit Grandma & Grandad. I took my book.

I read quietly all evening, Grandad sat in his chair as usual. I was a very good girl, silently reading. I finished the whole book and proudly went up to Grandad and told him that I had. He looked fondly at me and said, “I’m so proud of you Susan, you read the whole book.”

Thank you Ray and Mark for giving me that gift.