You know that line from The Prophet (1923) by Kahlil Gibran (1883-1923) about children; it goes something like: "your children are arrows shot from yourselves. Do not try to make them like you; try instead to be like them. Something like that. Now I'll look it up....

You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.

Well, that's not great, but I had the right idea. Anyway, I'm talking about grandchildren. No way you can strive to make them like you (in both senses of the word). There are so many more genes went into their DNA that you're lucky if you see even a passing resemblance to you or your mate. But their achievements are a wholly gratuitous blessing. You had nothing to do with their accomplishments but you can be proud all the same. And very grateful.

Well, every day should be a good day. "Make it so," as Patrick Stewart used to say when he was doing his Star Trek turn, and I try. But some good days are better than others. I went to the AGO this morning (Art Gallery of Ontario) to a preview of the new Alex Colville exhibition.

It's said if you come away from any experience with one new idea, you're really doing well. Maybe not an idea but something you didn't know before, oh, even a reinforcement of something you already knew but didn't remember you knew or didn't give it credit for its value...oh well, I'll just tell you. I might have known at one time but didn't remember that the animals on the Canadian coins issued during our Centennial year (1967) were designed by Alex Colville. They are:

One dollar, the Canada Goose (superseded now by the loon)

50 cent, the wolf

25 cent, the wildcat, or bobcat

5 cent, the rabbit

one cent, the dove (rock dove) ---gone, gone, gone

I bet they are collectors' items now, if you could put your hands on one.

Anyway, Alex Colville did them.

The other thing that made an impact on me was the love that Alex and his wife shared through their 70-year marriage. In one of several little films running in the gallery about different aspects of Colville's work and life, his daughter remembered, toward the end of her parents' lives, her mother looking at her father and saying, "I love you," And he said, "I love you, too. You are the one enduring fact of my life." Or was it most important? I don't think I got those words exactly, which is not like me. I was overcome with emotion and listening to my late husband with my heart.

It was a good day.