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Ever since my dad remarried I had been constantly asking him and my stepmom for them to give me a little sister or brother. And on December 31st, 1993 my little brother Quentin was born. I was ecstatic and couldn’t wait to go visit my dad so I could finally meet him. I was six years old, pretty young, but I was still allowed to hold him in my arms as long as I was seated. I still have a picture of that day, the day I sat on my grandparents couch with my little Quentin in my arms and a huge smile on my face. I still remember that day as if it was yesterday. I was so happy and so proud to have a little brother. I remember how sad I was when my vacation ended and I had to go back to my mom and say goodbye to my beautiful, precious little brother. I also remember feeling jealous that my cousins who lived in the same area as my dad where probably going to get to see him more often then me… When I got back home and returned to school there was only one subject on my mind, and that’s all I would talk about: Quentin.

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On October first, 1980, our son Steven was born. He was our third child, but the first boy, so his birth was a joyous occasion for my husband Ted and me. When Steven was just nineteen days old, I began attending classes at the Northern Alberta Institute of Technology (NAIT) to complete the fourth and final phase of my apprenticeship as a machinist. I had been the first woman to enroll in the Machinist Apprenticeship Program at NAIT. Another woman, Elsie, had started a year after me and was registered in that class. I did not want to lose the distinction of being the first woman to complete the program, so it seemed important to attend that term. I found a babysitter living near us who was willing to look after Steven while I attended classes for eight weeks. Our daughters, Tammy and Terri, in grades six and five, ate lunch at school and could handle being alone for an hour every day. I planned to take some time off to be with my new son after I achieved journeyman standing.

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