Road Trip!

Mom and I in March

 When I got word that mom died the first thing I wanted to do was call her, and tell her that it turned out ok. She went quickly and didn’t suffer as much as she was worried she might.  But.. of course, she wasn’t any place I could call.

So, I left Australia and went to the house in Madeira Park.  But, of course, she wasn’t there either.. even after Jackie delivered her ashes. 

With no one to talk to in Madeira,  I decided what I really  needed was a road trip.

I drove down the Sunshine Coast and caught the ferry over to Vancouver where I met up with my friend Judy.. we had a wonderful quiet time catching up and enjoying each other’s company and staying out of Prowler’s way (her cat).  I stayed with her three nights, and didn’t so much as sneeze.   I ate the best sushi I have ever tasted in a little shop right near her apartment.. We spent the Canadian election night  at a small dinner party in Kitsalano, eating and talking about Canadian politics and what it meant to be Canadian.  It was good.

And then, when I was about to move on, I found out Paula was coming to town.  Paula is always good medicine.  The conversations are always forward looking, positive and important.  But most of all, the food is always good. 

Paula was with a friend of hers and we wandered around Vancouver, sharing what we loved the best about this great city , checking out the Grandville Market and poking around for quite sometime in Opus.. discussing all that we could do with so many of the mediums and materials available in a big city art shop.  Dinner was in a noisy, Yale Town café.. something about Pigs Flying.. it was a few hours long as we enjoyed wine, (a toast to mom), appetizers, a delicious main meal and topped it all off with desert.. and then the walk ‘home’ to a hotel looking over the water.  

The next day , as I was heading out through the busy city, I saw a man in a wheelchair frantically trying to get through an intersection. His face looked panicked as the lights changed.  The cars were moving.. slowly, carefully, wondering what to do, when  a stranger ran over, got control of the chair and took it safely to other side of the street.  The man in the chair immediately reached in his coat pocket, for what was I am sure his most valuable possession, and offered the fellow a cigarette.  The relief, the pleasure.. the gratitude for an act so simple, was .. well.. it just made me feel I had witnessed a great thing. 

Vancouver seemed to be going out of it’s way to make me smile.

Next I was at Gabe’s.. with him and Kate healthy and excited about life: and telling me about the big sturgeon that Kate fought with on the river that morning.  It fought for ages she said, and then finally said good-bye with a dance, springing right out of the water with the sun glimmering off it’s enormous body. Gabe said he had never seen one that big. 

Gane and Kate with mom on our road trip in 2014

Then they showed me all the canning they had done, loading up the Escape for me to deliver as I travelled about.  I got a tour through the last of the enormous garden they had tended to all summer and we picked walnuts from the enormous walnut tree avoiding the enormously big bear turd beneath it.  We walked down to the river and sat on the dock.. in the afternoon sun.. the water smooth as glass.

 I stopped in to see Chris.. I drove up toward the hair studio and caught him as he was making his way down town.  ‘That’s funny’ he said.. ‘I was just writing about you!’  He took me back to their place and made coffee and we talked about the book he is working on.. the one about Salalah, and the one after that. He has been spending hours and days and weeks editing and I think figures that the research involved in the creation of these books is probably the best part: ‘I may have to go on another trip to Ireland! ‘

When I got to Cranbrook I was a little distracted.. I was checking the signage as I didn’t want to end up in Kimberley instead of on the road to Fernie, and I was thinking about mom.  I finally realized that the light had turned green and yet I was still sitting at the cross walk, .but it wasn’t just me.. there were a couple of us sitting there.. watching a deer.. and another and another.. four or five in all.  They were crossing right at the crosswalk, right on the crosswalk.. so that was ok.. and then it dawned on me.. these deer were intentionally crossing the highway on the crosswalk.. I burst out laughing and then glanced to the car on my right.. there was a young woman in that car and she looked at me and burst out laughing as well.  We shared a moment and it was really nice.

And before I knew it I was at Mary’s.. hot tub ready, bed ready.. I met her new room mate who talked about her new idea to help people with disabilities enjoy some respite from the city..

I visited Keltie and her four dogs. 

I spent an afternoon at the Downey’s.

Bev and Ray Downey in March 2015

These people are not the family I had planned to mourn with, and these were not the places I planned to head to in order to heal.  But I have felt welcomed by these people and by the world. 

Mary and I are planning a road trip.. well maybe not.. maybe we will fly to Mexico.. or maybe we take a couple weeks and check on a friend in China.. or.. maybe we just stay in the lower mainland and do something there.. these are the details.. all that stuff that really doesn’t matter.  What does matter is life itself.. there is so much to do and see: the small miracles that surround us.. friends to support us, food to eat, books to write (and read), pictures to paint (and admire), people to inspire us.. and hugs.. and love. 

Road trips are good..