When I was young at the river, I used to see cargo ships pass by and name and claim them. I used to go to this food truck called “Fries under the bridge” with my mom and Meema. I can still remember the smell of deep-fried pickles to this day. I remember sitting in my mom or Meema’s car on what felt like the longest trip to Sarnia ever. I was always mesmerized by the view of the river, it made me feel calm inside.

When I was young at the river, I remember visiting the shore once. I was with my mom and Meema. I was constantly having thoughts of swimming in the river but I didn’t because my mom told me that sharks lived in the river. I didn't want to get eaten.

When I was young at the river, I remember seeing the border of America, more specifically, Michigan. I thought it was Florida. I would always ask about the floating row of houses I would spot across the river every time we drove by. And every time I was told it was America.

Even now, there are memories that stick out the most. I remember driving past the river more times than I can count on two hands. The view never got old, no matter how many times we drove past. I remember staring out onto the river and getting lost in the view.