Canadiana Bustrow was neither surprised, nor embarrassed … Pappa had kept much too many of the old country ways and had always been more comfortable relieving himself not in a house where, “You eat, you sleep, you read, you make music or silence … you don’t shouldn’t make earth or water! Sickness can only come from this!”

And anyway, the specifics of Pappa’s death wouldn’t be mentioned in the obituary, simply: “Surrounded by his sorrowing family, Frydryck Bustrow, retired professor of astronomy and literature, died of natural causes in his cottage at the age of 88 years.”

“Natural causes” … a black widow spider-bite on his penis … “natural causes” brought about by his inexplicable inability to fully accept that he had every right to adapt to his new culture, use indoor plumbing, and not punish himself for “turning back on home from fear, putting eyes and hopes in direction of this cold, cold country.”

Canadiana would miss the old eccentric … luckily she had seemed to find happiness with her current husband, Colin Gikopoulos, professor of British History who she met at the clothing optional Hanlan’s Beach in Toronto after her third divorce.  He knew how to comfort with mere presence.  She had liked Colin immediately when he didn’t smirk at her name, or even ask, “Why did your parents call you that?!”

They called her that because they wanted her to fit into their new home and not stand out as the child of immigrants. Ah well, she stood out anyway when she reached six feet tall in the seventh grade; her odd name was the least of her worries.