Anybody who is part of a blended family (my mom would correct me right now and say “it’s a blending family, because it’s always a work in progress,” and she’s right), knows how tough it is to grow up in a house with people who are not part of your biological family.
However, it helps when some of those people are like Julie.
I spent the better part of my teenage years trying to be like Julie. I colored my hair and stole her clothes and listened to the same music she did. Even still, I knew there was no way I’d be as cool as Julie Smith. I mean, c’maan.
Part of what makes Julie so awesome is her love of life. She loves a cold beer and a good party. She also appreciates a long hike and a breathtaking sunset.
Julie is heart-wrenchingly proud of her roots; she’s a Newfie to her core, which is something my dad adored about her (as do I).
Most admirable of all, perhaps, is her enthusiasm for her role in taking care of two of the most wonderful little girls I’ve ever met, as well as the love she shares with Allan (that we all can’t stop swooning over).
Bottom line, Julie Smith is a kickass human who is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. She has a gargantuan heart, an infectious laugh, and the best collection of band shirts in NL.
late 14c., "death," from Middle French obit or directly from Latin obitus "death," noun use of past participle of obire "to die," literally "to go toward" (see obituary). In modern usage (since 1874) it is usually a clipped form of obituary, though it had the same meaning of "published death notice" 15c.-17c.
plural vitae, Latin, literally "life," from PIE root *gwei- "to live."
While recently watching Rex Murphy’s tribute to my late father, I was saddened that my father wasn’t able to hear Murphy’s wonderful words. I’ve decided to write pieces that are dedicated to telling the people in my life how great I think they are. I call them “Vituaries.”