A TRAGIC LEAP DAY
REMEMBRANCE
February 29, 2020, marks the 'two-year'
anniversary of the death of my son, Jordan, who tragically drowned in
Goose Bay, Musgravetown, Newfoundland and Labrador, in 2012.
Although eight years have passed, chronologically-speaking, this is
only the second Leap Year Day since then (the first being in 2016).
Jordan had not quite reached his
twenty-fourth birthday, but before moving with his younger brother to
Canada's 'Far East' to live with their father, their formative years
were spent in Ontario. He was born in North York on May 22, 1988
(and his brother, Angus, in Toronto in 1991). He was the second son
of Walter Wells. His older brother, Shawn, who would also pass away
suddenly in March 2018, also resided in that metropolis.
Jordan and Angus lived with me for a
couple of years in Ottawa (my birthplace) in the early '90s after the
marital break-up, but we returned to the Greater Toronto Area
(Scarborough) in 1995 in search of more plentiful job opportunities
for me. Shortly before the 9/11 catastrophe in New York City in
2001, we moved to Hamilton, but the boys, now almost 14 and 10, were
not happy living there. In 2002, their father, who had moved back
to his roots in Newfoundland, was about to re-marry and asked if the
boys could come stay with them (and their soon-to-be stepsister,
Deanna) to 'give them a taste of country living'. I was burning out
as a working single parent, and the boys were more than up for it, so
I agreed, under the condition that they be returned in a year's time.
It was naive of me not to realize that
they would actually love it there and make new friends during this
extended 'visit', so I decided to allow them to stay where they were
happy. Because their early upbringing had consisted of numerous
moves, I felt it would be good for them to finally grow roots. This
was something I had never had, being from a military family who moved
to and from various cities in Ontario and Quebec.
It would be almost ten years to the day
of his arrival in Jamestown when Jordan would unsuccessfully cross
Goose Bay on a four-wheel ATV at night. The snowfall may not have
started until after he set out. It might have been about a half-hour
drive along the frozen shoreline trail, but he must have become
disoriented, and the vehicle veered off the trail and into only
partially-frozen water. His absence at the other end of his journey
was not noticed until the next morning. Local friends and family
members were contacted, but no one knew of his whereabouts. A
search-and-rescue team was dispatched, and shortly afterwards his
helmet and boots were discovered floating in the bay. A Coast Guard
vessel was able to locate and recover his body the following day.
Now residing in Ottawa again (and Angus
and his fiancee in Calgary), I am still haunted, imagining myself
through Jordan's eyes and mind, alone on his ATV on that cold, snowy
night. Although he was a fearless sort, he must have realized at
some point the danger he was in, but not until it was too late. As I
prepare for Angus's wedding in St. John's this coming September, I
dearly wish Jordan and Shawn could be there, too.
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