On the second day of my visit Elizabeth and I drove to Anacortes, WA to
visit Betty Anne Bone – now Ely, a gal who was the best buddy of my 15-year-old
self. Betty Anne’s dad was involved with air transport safety. The family had
moved from Edmonton to Ottawa earlier that year and they returned just a
year or so later. One lovely summer I spent a great deal of time at BA’s place
playing rummy and canasta by the hour. She would take me over to the near-by
Westgate Shopping Centre to look at clothes – her interest, not especially mine
at the time. She was jolly and lively with her bright blue eyes and shiny black
hair. We hadn’t seen each other for over 50 years. So it was a distinctly
surreal experience to sit opposite her at a posh restaurant ocean-side in
Anacortes, trying to sum up my last decades and hearing about hers, looking
into the face of a woman who was at once familiar, and, a total stranger. But
we made our way through it and managed to see something both old and new in one
another.
On my fourth day I went to Deep Cove, a gorgeous inlet spot in North
Vancouver, its turn-off just before one crosses the bridge to Vancouver itself.
There I had a visit and lunch with Karl Laskin, a friend that we made
while in Puerto Vallarta. Karl is originally from South Africa but has lived in
Canada for many decades. He comes to Puerto Vallarta usually for a month each
winter, his respite time from the loving care that he and two helpers give to
his wife, Beverley who was felled by a debilitating stroke three years ago.
Karl is a passionate animal rights advocate, a lover of opera, and so much
more. He took me down to the village of Deep Cove set along the waterfront, a
place favoured by kayakers because of its beautiful setting and relatively calm
waters. We had coffee and cake at his regular hang-out spot, walked around the
cove area and briefly into the adjacent forest, before returning to his home
for lunch on the deck, and, a walk about his ¾ acre garden. In this garden he
grows every imaginable herb, fruit, and flower. He took me around, giving me
bits and pieces to sample, challenging me to identify each. It is a magical
place.
I saw little of Billie during my visit as she was either at school, after-school program, soccer practice, on her computer, or at her dad's. We did get in a couple of card games though, each winning one. It was special spending time with Elizabeth, both out with the doggie
and just hanging around her house or catching a bite to eat. She had lived in
Vancouver for about nine years before she came back to Toronto with 1 ½ year
old Billie 10 years ago. With years of independent (of the parents primarily)
life under her belt and with a baby in tow, she was a decidedly different young
woman to deal with than the 20-ish girl who only wanted to go west and be with
her good buds who had moved there. All of us had changed and were more open to
resolving whatever challenges there had been to easy parent-kid relations. By
the time that Billie and she headed back to Vancouver last summer we had carved
out a wonderful way of being together. She had completed a four-year degree in
psychology and had become an addictions counsellor. She and I had had many
fruitful talks about working with people. It was hard to see her go even though
it made good sense for her and Billie. She had a job open with the umbrella group
who offer SROs – single rooms only – to the hardest to house homeless of
Vancouver’s east side. Billie would be able to regularly be with Clayton, her
dad, and, Elizabeth could give up her position of a single parent. She and
Clayton are good friends and have made the complexities of the situation work
for all concerned. I’m proud of her and support her as she goes forward as an always interesting person.
On one walk in the forest I told Elizabeth how conscious I was of how we
are more or less moving past one another in life. I was for so long “above”
her, in the sense that I was not just older, but I was more financially secure,
and, physically and mentally more or less in (as Jean Brodie would say) ‘in my
prime.’ Elizabeth will turn 39 (Jack Benny’s perennial age!) next month,
whereas I am now seriously entrenched in what I call the ‘middle senior years.’
On our walks I had constantly to check where I was putting my feet, least I
stumble or slide. She on the other hand bounced gracefully along at a pace that
took into account both mine and that of Sadie. I am aware of variously
diminishing capabilities in many and varied dimensions and see clearly where I
am heading. I have to say, however, that I find this part of my life to be
wonderful in many respects and that I am enjoying it. Elizabeth would put out
her hand to me at different points on our trek and would stand by patiently
when I needed some time to rest and lower my rapidly beating pulse. She was and
will become even more in some yet uncharted future the one who looks out for
me, even as my siblings and I took some care of my mother in her last years.
The cycle of life, no getting away from it.
And now I’m back in Toronto, glorying in the Blue Jays wins (I watched
the games out west also), studying the various reports about polls and trends
in our election just three weeks away, and out walking our multi-national
streets and chatting with my neighbours from so many lands. Yes, I love
Vancouver and may someday spend more time there, but as cities go, Toronto is
also one of the very best.
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