www.insideHALTON.com · OAKVILLE BEAVER Thursday, May 17, 2012 · 6 The Oakville Beaver 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5566 Classified Advertising: 905-632-4440 Circulation: 845-9742 The Oakville Beaver is a member of the Ontario Press Council. The council is located at 80 Gould St., Suite 206, Toronto, Ont., M5B 2M7. Phone (416) 340-1981. Advertising is accepted on the condition that, in the event of a typographical error, that portion of advertising space occupied by the erroneous item, together with a reasonable allowance for signature, will not be charged for, but the balance of the advertisement will be paid for at the applicable rate. The publisher reserves the right to categorize advertisements or decline. Editorial and advertising content of the Oakville Beaver is protected by copyright. Unauthorized use is prohibited. Guest Column Mourning the loss of a mother By Wendy Burton ayor Rob Burton credits his mother, who died on Mother's Day, for a life that encouraged her family to face challenges with a lively curiosity and courage. Shirley Etheredge Burton, 87, died Sunday at a nursing home in Riverside, CA. The immediate cause of death was complications from a recent fall. Rob Burton Born in Norfolk, VA, she studied teaching before embarking on what would turn out to be a life of travelling. With her best friend, she was working at an army air force base in Arizona when she met and fell in love with her husband, Marc, who survives her. They were married in 1945. Marc's career as an army air force meteorologist saw the couple create successive homes in California, Hawaii, Nebraska, Florida, Pennsylvania, Washington, D.C., and Spain. Shirley raised five children while moving every three years. She also taught Sunday school and raised several Airedale Terriers. Shirley was known for her wry sense of humour and a Virginia accent that never left her. She met life's challenges with unmatched grace and strength. When the couple retired to San Jose, CA, she enjoyed the life of a SUbmitted photo professor's wife, hosting merry endof-term dinners to Marc's students at A MOTHER: Shirley Etheredge Burton, with San Jose State College. her son, now Mayor Rob Burton. In addition to her husband and Mayor Burton, she is survived by two other sons, two daughters, 10 grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren. Editor's Note: Mayor Rob Burton filed this story, written by his wife Wendy Burton, as he and his family mourn the recent loss of his mother. Neil Oliver Vice-President and Group Publisher, Metroland West David harvey Regional General Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief Daniel Baird Advertising Director ANGELA BLACKBURN Managing Editor Riziero Vertolli Photography Director Sandy Pare Business Manager RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: Ontario Community Newspapers Association MARK DILLS Director of Production Manuel garcia Production Manager CHARLENE HALL Director of Distribution Sarah McSweeney Circ. Manager Website www.oakvillebeaver.com The OakvilleBeaver is a division of M Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: United Way of Oakville ATHENA Award nikki wesley / oakville beaver BEINVENUE AU `PARIS': Can-Can dancers Megan Claringbold, 12, Keira Thacker, 13, and Aurora Cordingley, 12, invite participants with roses during Brookdale Public School's 20th annual "French Café," a celebration of French culture, arts and language. The French Café brings the delights of Paris for the day as staff, students and parents sip drinks and enjoy a delicious chocolate croissant. When travelling together, you never see the end of the road I t was Neil Finn who sang in the classic Crowded House hit Don't Dream It's Over: "You'll never see the end of the road while you're traveling with me...." And so my wife and I find ourselves on another road trip, heading southwest to Chicago in search of adventure, and in celebration of one of those lofty, landmark wedding anniversaries that leave you shaking your head in disbelief at the brisk passage of time, and reflecting on all the roads taken to get to this point in your life. We met in our hometown, as Springsteen cryptically sings, "some misty years ago." I looked across a Grade 10 classroom and there she was, with those irresistible Irish eyes and that shy, winsome smile. Imagine, having your heart handcuffed at such a tender age. Imagine, finding that kind of chemistry... in a science class. We were pups when we took our first road trip. On a whim, jumping into a Dodge Dart that mysteriously had very little paint on the roof, and even less tread on the tires, determined to make it to Quebec City and back in time for the wedding of two friends, the first of our high school crew to take the plunge. Our trip mirrored marriage, indeed life itself. Good times intermittently interrupted by some ripped-up road (that our bald tires had trouble navigating as we sped through Montreal); a few unexpected detours (imagine our shock when confronted by a sign that read: "Welcome to New York," given that New York was nowhere on our unwritten itinerary); and even the odd pothole. In a sleepy Quebec town, we fought over Andy Juniper less-than-nothing and she left me in a huff to fend for myself, foraging for food in fractured French. Fortunately we made up. Before I starved to death. Ceaselessly sidetracked by fun, we never made it to Quebec City, and returned just in time for the wedding. Years later, it was our turn to get married. We tied the knot, then flew to San Francisco and drove down the coast of California in a rental car that was the size of a pocket novel. Scenically speaking, it was the most breathtaking drive imaginable (we had to wrestle temptation to keep from stopping and snapping pictures). However, navigating the treacherous turns of the coastal highway in that tiny tin box left the newlyweds a little nauseous. Ah, then there was my wife's subsequent visit to the emergency ward of a hospital in Long Beach (gunshot victim on our left, knifing victim on our right), but that's another story for another day. Alas, we make it to Chicago in record time. We chose the Windy City to celebrate because of its cosmopolitan charm, amazing eateries, and because it's one of our favorite places on the planet (oh, and the Cubs are in town). Ten hours after leaving our home in the middle-of-nowhere, we are absorbing the ambiance and energy of the Frontera Grill --smack dab in the heart of bustling Chicago -- and being guided through a Mexican menu by a patient waiter. Dinner ordered, we toast all the misty years, and thank fate for the chemistry found in a science class. Then we get down to the business of making a game plan for our time in Chicago. We know we cannot possibly do and see all that we desire; because we know that when travelling together, we never see the end of the road. Andy Juniper can be contacted at ajjuniper@gmail.com, found on Facebook at www.facebook.com, or followed at www.twitter. com/thesportjesters.