Dad wasn't a big man and in his last years, he seemed to shrink more. With having Alzheimer's, routine was important, and he wore this jacket every day, all day long...I will always imagine him wearing it and when we meet again in spirit, I hope he is wearing it still, although the actual precious fabric is incorporated into this lovely memorial...I kept a button!

My mother was very skilled at needlework - embroidery, knitting, dressmaking…This needlework picture is dated 1942, when mother was 21 or 22. It was done in the middle of the war in England…During war years people planted victory gardens, growing their own vegetables to free more food supplies for the war effort. Mother's picture, "Dig for Victory," is a humorous view of two women working in their garden. When you look at the picture closely, you see an amazing amount of detail - done with just a needle and thread.

The day before her surgery, my mother was in her garden from morning 'til early evening. It was like she knew that she would not see her garden again. She spent her last full day on this earth doing what she loved to do best and what gave her so much joy and tranquility...This is the shirt she often wore gardening. I found it in her bedroom on a chair, just as she had placed it after her last happy day of gardening. I share this shirt in memory of my wonderful mother, who gave so much to me as a daughter and to everyone and everything around her.

I remember the day you told me you had purchased a race horse. You were 50 years old and I was amazed that you were taking up this new direction at an age when most people would be thinking about slowing down…I remember getting the phone call that something had happened and guessing that it had to do with the horses. I could not believe you were gone...I remember going through your clothing...Your driving suit represents the part of you that was always bigger than life to me. Your driving suit must continue on in some way.

What was important was having the kind of birthday my father wanted. So we had the small get together with our immediate family…I look at this beautiful pink shirt he wore and know it served as a reminder of the kind of man he was. This shirt, like his smile, showed his joy...He wanted to be a beacon that was an example of God's love.

This galabia belonged to our Mother, Marjorie, and represents her elegant style. She was a kind, warm and generous woman…Her presence influenced all our lives greatly.

Just two months before his death, Professor Albert was declared an Artist. His work…and his biography are displayed to this day along the Artist Walk at Sunnybrook Veterans facility. On that day…he wore his favourite fleece sweater…My husband comes to me in my dreams...I know he is with me when I hear the words "Hello My Love."

My mother was only 18 in 1943 when she designed, sewed, and embroidered five nightdresses that would become the first pieces in her hope chest…She could have become so many things. But she chose to become a wife and mother, a seamstress, an immigrant, an embroider of lives...She was a lover of poetry and song and beauty and, in my eyes, that essence is captured in this handmade garment of her youth.

I am sharing the crazy quilt you made me from leftover scraps of my and your dresses, blouses, skirts and pants, which you sewed…The pale blue metallic pieces are my surprise grade 12 graduation dress…the bright green scraps are my bell bottom pants…I see your long remembered house dresses in the flowered cotton scraps...Store bought clothes, like store bought cookies, just weren't the same as homemade ones...Thank you for always loving me and for still being in my memories so I can always talk to you.

My family have contributed the navy blue Legion jacket - a cherished item for my dad, Harry Stimson. He was a simple man with simple pleasures. He was a dedicated member of Branch 22 of the Royal Canadian Legion. Many evenings were spent there with his friends, playing cards and snooker. Harry served in the Royal Canadian Air Force...He is sadly missed.