Today's Wrexham recollections begin with our flight from Toronto to London overnight, and repercussions from our preceding flight from Ottawa to Toronto. Because the Ottawa-Toronto flight was completely full and the overhead storage area was so limited, Air Canada personnel told us that we would need to check our carry-on luggage. I wasn't thrilled by the idea, both owing to the possibility of lost luggage and the delays it would cause at the end of our journey. But we had no choice, so we relinquished our bags. As my carry-on and Shane's carry-on were processed together, I assumed that they would make it to London on the same flight as us.

Like our first flight of the day, our second flight (from Toronto to London), was packed, causing a slight delay in the departure. Once on board, we settled in, hoping to catch some sleep overnight. I managed to nod off for a bit, but Shane had less success. We were happy to land in London and quickly made our way through customs—a high-tech, low-touch experience that involved swiping our passports and moving through security without questions.

We proceeded to the baggage claim area of the terminal, which is where things got a little dicey. Shane spotted my bag readily enough, but then we waited for 15 minutes for his bag to appear, up to the point that the conveyor belt stopped, signaling that there were no more suitcases coming off that flight. What I had feared—a lost bag—had come to pass. I headed to the lost baggage counter, where I learned that Shane's bag was on a different flight from the one we took. That flight would land 5-10 minutes later but its baggage could take up to an hour to appear in the terminal. If I chose not to wait, they would send the baggage from London to Wrexham, but it would arrive only tomorrow. I wouldn't have been so bothered except that we were meeting with another couple to make the trip from England to Wales, and they had already waited several hours for our flight to arrive. Asking them to wait upwards of another hour seemed unfair. Nevertheless, when I explained the situation, they said, "wait for Shane's bag." I was so grateful. This couple had turned a frustrating experience into one of kindness and generosity.

Indeed, wherever we went today, we met kind people, from the couple we graciously waited for our flight to arrive and our lost bag to follow even later, to the driver who transported us from London to Wales, to the hotel staff in Wrexham, to the strangers on the street who gave us directions, to the young men who chatted with us at The Turf bar, to the people of Wrexham who welcomed us, to the numerous Canadians in town for the first Terry Fox Wrexham Run who chatted with us, to the man who organized our weekend excursion and kept in touch with us in the weeks leading up to the run and throughout the day today.

I enjoyed seeing The Racecourse football stadium, going inside The Turf pub and hearing The Declan Swans play. But the highlight for me was meeting Fred Fox, Terry Fox's older brother. I felt so emotional talking to Fred; I cried more tears in our 15-minute conversation than I've cried in the last four years of dealing with cancer. As I stood beside Fred and shared my intense admiration for his brother, I was filled with a profound sense of loss and a deep sense of admiration. For me, this trip is about many things, but none so important as honouring Terry and enjoying this experience with my son.