In April 2025, I returned to our first family home with my parents.
To our surprise, the house looked much the same—it hadn’t been demolished or significantly renovated. As we stood outside reminiscing, the current owner, who had lived there since 1985, suddenly pulled into the driveway, as if he knew we'd be there.
He recognized my mother instantly when she mentioned our history with the house, recalling how she was still cleaning as he and his wife moved in. Though we never caught his name, he enthusiastically invited us to see his garden and the interior. To our amazement, much of it remained unchanged, though lovingly maintained and improved.
Beaming with pride, he told us how much he loved the house and that he would never leave it. My mother smiled warmly and said, “It’s not my house anymore, but this makes me very happy.”
When I think of Scarborough, I think of this house, this neighborhood, visiting Thompson Memorial Park, Cedarbrae Library, the Scarborough Civic Centre, and the neighboring plazas. I think of the kids I played with—what we got up to, their homes, and our days at school. I remember roaming the streets until dark, riding bikes aimlessly, and gathering at neighbors’ homes. Back then, the streets felt vast and endless. Even now, I carry so many memories of Scarborough with me—clear and distinct, as if no time has passed.
Watching my parents and the current owner bond over a shared home, their experiences, and the passage of time reminded me how deeply places connect us. Scarborough was more than just a childhood backdrop—it was a foundation. That moment—and the memories it holds—are at the heart of this project.
Mom and Dad
My dad once managed a Becker’s convenience store at Kennedy and Ellesmere. At the time, he, my mom, and my sister lived in an apartment across from the Science Centre on Don Mills Road. For new Canadians, running a convenience store required little English and provided essential skills. Known as Manager Lee, my dad befriended a kind Taiwanese man who often visited the store. One day, the man asked if my dad could hire his teenage son. That request sparked a friendship that eventually led my dad to a house for sale in Scarborough.
My parents lived in Scarborough from 1973 to 1985. On the day they moved into their new bungalow, my mom went into labor with my brother. Ever strong and active, she was helping unload the truck when she suddenly declared she needed to go to the hospital—my brother was on his way.
A few years later, when I was born in 1977, my brother and sister stayed home with my Great Aunt Helena while my parents were at Scarborough General Hospital. At some point, my brother hid under the bed, sending my Halmoni into a panic as she searched the neighborhood, thinking he had gone missing.
My parents carry many more stories from their years in Scarborough—a time of joy, hardship, and growth. As young parents and new Canadians, they leaned on their community for job opportunities and housing.
