By Grace Stevenson
We moved to Oshawa in 1970 and I began to work for the stationery company in which my husband was now a partner. Our office was in the south part of the city, and it wasn?t long before I discovered a nearby street led down to Lake Ontario. I love the water, so, after that, my lunch beside me, I drove down to Oshawa beach every noon and parked the car facing that huge body of water a friend from Scotland called ?another ocean? when she first saw it. On good days, I got out and sat on a bench to eat my sandwich. But the days I enjoyed the most were those when the wind forced me to shelter in the car watching the angry waves roar up onto the beach and foamy whitecaps adorn the vast expanse of water stretching far into the distance. Those solitary hours, combined with exploratory drives on peaceful northern Durham roads, helped to ease the stress caused by leaving Montreal, the city where I was born and which I still love. They also prepared me for the next chapter of my life, one that has proved to be both eventful and happy.
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