I wanted to write lots of stuff about today but it is late and I am taarrred and we have had so many interactions with various beloved friends and relatives that I really cannot process them all enough to write them down. The main thing? I grew up living in a town with a park called Sherman Park. I grew up playing with kids who had the last name Sherman. They did not live in my town. They visited my family’s beach in the summer and I never connected them with Sherman Park. We were too busy having fun running around like wild Indians. Turns out that the park was named after their grandfather, Henry A. Sherman, who was a long-time Sault Ste. Marie city manager. He was a humble person who was not enthusiastic about having a park named after him.

Today the GG and I attended a Sherman Park re-dedication ceremony during which the boulder and plaque and a few other artifacts were installed, identifying the park’s namesake. I had the honor of driving the keynote speaker, my beloved childhood friend Dan Sherman (white shirt and tie in the pic), to the ceremony. So much fun and so many wonderful folks were there, including some who remembered my family’s name (Finlayson) as well as our McNaughton friends’ name.

Love. It’s all there is.

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