My First Love Letter (or How I Broke Ryan Gosling’s Heart)
When I was very little I lived in Cornwall with my parents at my grandparents house on Cooper Street. My dad was working at Ross Video in Iroquois and one day he decided that it was time to move closer to work.
I don’t have to tell you that I don’t really remember much about this part of my life.
I remember loving my grandmother’s tiny white poodle Tattoo. I remember secretly smuggling out a piece of chocolate birthday cake from school into my She-Ra lunch pail to bring home to mom and being very sad when she threw out the mangled disaster that it had become upon discovery. I remember exactly one flash frame from a bus ride to school.
I remember accidentally starting a fire in the den when I crammed a plastic stick into the heating vent. But one vivid memory I do have is of my tearful goodbye from my class at Gladstone Public School. The world was ending, as far as I was concerned. I knew I would never make friends again. And how could anyone every replace the amazing teacher I had (whose name I can no longer remember)?
I can’t say that I remember many of my friends there but I do know that I was so sad to leave them behind. I think it was the first time that I realized that there are times when you really do say goodbye to people, never to see them again.
I have this memory of sitting on swing, thinking about how I wanted to grow up and marry the weird, loner boy from the class ahead of mine who was playing with a toy truck in the sandbox. I might not have known all about romantic love or any of that but what I did know was that this particular sandy-blonde, suit wearing kid (as per my only vivid memory of him) was IT for lil me.
My last memory of Gladstone Public School was the teacher presenting me with a small bag of candy and a sheet of paper that kids in the class had ‘signed’ to give to me as a going away present. As I was walking through the halls on the way to the parking lot to meet up with my mom, the little well-dressed boy ran up and handled me a crumpled up paper, tears streaming down his face, and then ran off.
In the left of this photo is the letter from the class. To the right is a sad love letter from Ryan Gosling, as it turns out.
This year was a great success. Extra Life has made nearly $3.9 million dollars this year and our team — Team Bombshelter — contributed about $2020 (final tally to come soon)! Before I go any further I’d like to…