We scattered some of Clint’s ashes in what must be one of the most beautiful places in Saskatchewan and I'd say, in all of Canada. We stood on a grassy knoll on the property of Don and Lynda Graham, old friends of Karen's and new friends of mine, with the Qu’Appelle Valley spread as a panorama in front of us.
Clint was born a prairie boy and even though he lived many years in Toronto, as they say “You can take the boy out of the prairies, but you can’t take the prairies out of the boy.”
I know he would approve of the place we chose.

Gone from our sight,

but never our memories.

Gone from our touch,

but never our hearts