On the weekends, he would drive to Montreal in his Golden Eagle Tra‎ns Am. When he didn’t come to Montreal, he would call me on the phone. If he couldn’t call me, he would write me a letter. Not just any ordinary letter, a love letter. I still have them. In one of his letters he wrote that he envisioned us “In a gold carriage being pulled by white horses into a sky destined for love”. I blushed from that line. It has stayed with me for over (gulp!) 35 years. That was romantic writing.