Dianne

This past Saturday, my parents, Tim and I went to visit my cousin Dianne in a faraway place called Waterloo. Dianne is one of my first cousins on my mom’s side. Trini to de bone, as some might say. She just moved here from the west coast, so it was really nice to hook up for dinner and catch up after a few years and provinces between us.

One of my fondest memories of Dianne goes back to the days when my sister, brother and I were in German school. Every Saturday morning from 10:00am to 1:00pm we’d head to West Hill Collegiate to learn about the various and complicated German tenses, articles, conjugations and vocabulary while all the other kids slept late and watched cartoons.

I’ll never forget the day Dianne suddenly appeared on the scene and spirited us away to Canada’s Wonderland. It was a full moon that night and she joked about being a werewolf. This is the stuff kids never forget, and why today Tim and I take my niece and nephew out of German school whenever possible.

Martha, er…I mean Dianne prepared for us a truly wonderful meal--a roast, potatoes, salads, homemade bread, homemade pie. Everything was so delicious. And then she bellydanced for us (long story) after which she performed like no other karaoke star I’ve ever seen. Butter ripple schnapps. Amazing the talent it brings forth. You really must try it. We did, and by the end of the night we were all singing and dancing.

Dianne as well taught Tim the mastery of Trini talk, finetuning his accent and repeating key phrases. Some time, you should really ask him what he learned to say that day. Impressive. That’s what my cousin is. In the face of adversity, she finds the strength to smile, eyes sparkling, as she effortlessly infects others with her enthusiasm.

Thank you, cousin.