As a child, the first strolls I took started at a stone's throw from the Place publique of the Old Saint-Jean, where the Memory Walk will start off on Sunday May 25th. Both my parents' hands would lead me on Saint-Paul Street, from Laurier Street right up to the locks that opened to a dream. Later, with unfailing happiness, we would continue on the towpath, between the river and the canal, as far as the rapids, as far as the "pêches à Thuot", which was swarming with eels. Since then, the path that runs through this neighbourhood, or alongside the canal always seems too short to me. As does time.
Today, mother can no longer walk and no longer recognize Saint-Paul Street, nor the river. Before her the locks remain open to oblivion. She has lost all the beautiful memories that were sowed here. I will be walking for her on May 25th and it is for her that I ask you to walk with me. For her and for the others that you can name, for hands being held and for those that hold, for the first hands that require a constant presence and for the others that need a little rest.
