Bernard Walter

Tag: Family

  • My Maa Helped Me Move to Toronto

    I made it. After two, rather long, weeks, I’m finally settled in Toronto. I dropped my mom off at the airport this evening, after her two-week stay. You see, she came out to help me move.

  • I Didn’t Send My Mother a Card or Flowers

    I Didn’t Send My Mother a Card or Flowers

    It’s a tragedy, really, if my sister hadn’t posted a photo on Instagram, I wouldn’t have even known that it was Mothers’ Day. I love my mother, but I never send her a card or flowers on Mothers’ Day. I never send her anything more than a kind salutation over the phone. I should break…

  • Quick Conversation With My Sister

    Quick Conversation With My Sister

    Excerpt from a conversation with my sister: didn’t sleep well last night and just woke up. The driver will be here in a few minutes. Hope you sleep well Yeah, she’s got a driver for those rough mornings when she hasn’t slept well. She’s also got a driver for those mornings when the sun is…

  • From the Archives – I Am A Donkey

    Below is a post that I wrote almost a year ago. For some reason, it seems to resonate with me today. April 26, 2013 When my father was here in February he said to me, “[Bernard], just be a donkey.” This has become a running joke in my family, and, sadly, I cannot live the…

  • A Quick Word About My Father

    A Quick Word About My Father

    I haven’t written much lately, despite having a good number of drafts waiting to be finished. My life has become busier than I ever expected it could be, and I’m treading water, desperately trying to keep afloat. Today, however, I would be remiss if I didn’t take the time to acknowledge the great man in…

  • Protected: My Middle Name is My Father’s First Name

    Protected: My Middle Name is My Father’s First Name

    There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

  • Protected: One Day I Was Born

    Protected: One Day I Was Born

    There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

  • The Death of A Matriarch

    It isn’t customary to eulogize the dead in the community in which I was raised, and obituaries are never written. But, on the occasion of my grandmothers death, I will attempt to write a, albeit self-reflective, eulogy to memorialize her. She deserves that much, doesn’t she?

  • Welcome to Mariposa

    Welcome to Mariposa

    Last week was a bit busy, but I’m now stationed in Mariposa. I still have to make my way down to Toronto every so often, but that’s not much of a bother. Here is what happened last week.