Leaving Victoria

9:45am, Monday, April 22, 2013.  It’s a brilliantly blue morning in Victoria, and I’m in the Schwartz Bay ferry terminal waiting for the 11:00am ferry.  I thought that I would arrive in time for the 9 o’clock sailing, but I just missed it.  They stopped the boarding at the car in front of me, a Mini Cooper S whose driver, a cute young woman who looked as if she hadn’t been denied much in life, was some irritated.  I got out of the car and approached hers to ask if she knew when the next ferry would leave, and she pouted, “11 and I’ve got such a small car.”  I had taken 2 pillows to mom’s, so I pushed back the seat and rested on them for about 20 min., but the thought of coffee wouldn’t leave my mind, so I rose and wafted into the terminal café for a Starbucks kick in the butt.  I’m a certified caffeine addict now.  Mom’s breakfast every day is a bowl of very healthy cereal, a mix of 4 unsweetened wheat, bran and oat cereals with some fruit or raisins and a cup of tea.  It’s ‘good and good for you’, as she says, but so unrelenting.  While I was with her I learned of every location within a reasonable radius of the hospital and their place that served good coffee.  One of the best was Barbara and Terry’s; they have an excellent hazelnut coffee that I would recommend to anyone visiting Vic. West.  They also make a savory Spanish garlic soup.  When I joined them for lunch one day after about 10 days at mom and dad’s where garlic is strictly banned, I found it hard to resist lifting the bowl and pouring its contents down my throat in one long gulp.  Mom didn’t weaken where garlic was concerned.  She has eaten and enjoyed it in small doses at times, but dad can’t bear it and she seemed to be enforcing his edicts even more strictly in his absence than she usually does when he’s there.  They both have enjoyed coffee in their day; however, and she readily joined me for a coffee when we went for lunch at the hospital.  She even learned to appreciate an Americano, my cup of choice at the moment.

The other day, I thought of Jay’s story of Mark Van de Vyvere saying, “Oh my shattered nerves.”  Jay was delighted to hear such a big man utter a phrase that is usually associated with delicate ladies.  It came to my mind when mom suggested that we go for a drive in her car so she could make sure it was still running before I left.  Of course it had to be done, but I had been hoping that she would forget about doing it, find out it didn’t work after I had left and take taxis to visit dad.  No such luck.  She may wheeze a bit after rushing or walking too far and wave her cane in a dangerous and dismissive way when she’s angry.  Her face might cloud over instantly in a mask of anger when crossed or misery when the pain of neuralgia overwhelms her, but her will too carry on with dad is never to be denied.  And for that to happen, she must drive the car.  So we did.  I was happy to see she had a cushion to sit on, so she does see over the dash.  And aside from swinging left before turning right, going through one red light and almost creasing a parked car, she actually drove quite well.  I think she will be better when she’s alone because my presence made her nervous and she also wanted to show me a good time by pointing out interesting things along the route which I was too frozen with fear to be able to turn my head and appreciate.  She parked the car at Willows Beach, and we had a good walk along the shore.  She actually enjoyed letting the wind blow through her hair.  She usually walks with a hood up or a horrible plastic rain hat on because wind either threatens her ‘do’ or makes her neuralgia hurt.  We ended the trial run with a lunch at the Marina Coffee Shop.  It was a complete success.  I hope all goes as well for her now that she begins her solo drives to the hospital.

The rumble of the ferry’s engines and the mumbling of passengers’ voices surround me as I write these final words.  It’s a glorious day to be on the ferry, blue, windy and warm.

I spent the first hour walking around the decks taking pictures and thinking about all the times I’ve taken this ride to and from Victoria.  It’s a drag if you miss the sailing and it adds hours to the trip, but whether the weather is fine or not, it’s always invigorating to walk along the decks and look out over the water and to sometimes see the ghostly snow capped mountains in the distance and the islands and boats that pass.  As I watched the wake bubble up between the island and me, the overwhelming sadness of leaving mom and dad to the difficulties they face combined in equal parts with the fresh air and clarity of the sea and the freedom of leaving.  I took deep breaths and tears filled my eyes, as they do now.   

I will end with the image of mom that stayed with me as I drove back to Vernon.  I got up early to leave for the 9am ferry.  I had all my stuff in the car and was returning to say goodbye to her.  I opened the door to see her careening around the corner from her bedroom, hair disheveled and wearing nothing but her fine wool bloomers and matching wife beater, her frail limbs akimbo.  She looked so cute.  The same cuteness that often infuriates me melted me this time.  She was upset that she had wakened late and was now rushing to help me with my last things.  I waited for her to put on her laundry day clothes and we shared a final glass of orange juice.  Then she came out to the car with me to see that the little Mazda really does have ‘inner bigness’.   We had a parting hug, and I left with a touching image of her that erased the memories of past anger, for a while. 

Barbara and Terry in front of their house, dressed for spring and her birthday

Burke Boyce struggling to roll over for the first time

Great grandma and grandpa Boyce in his room in the hospital where he is struggling just as hard to get back on his feet

Part of the view from mom and dad's balcony at sunset.  I did my physio on there every morning and evening.  There were 2 bald eagles who often perched at the top of the big cedar in the background.

Snow covered Mount Baker in the distance as seen from the ferry to Vancouver

Me looking windblown in the mirror window at the bow of the ferry.