The West Commences: Visit to Victoria

It’s Sunday, July 21, and I’m sitting on a bench in the shade of a tamarisk tree looking out to sea from the tip of the Turkey Head Walkway in Oak Bay. A crow nearby is cawing and pulling apart something he’s found in the garbage can. I don’t have my glasses on because I want to see what I’m typing, but it appears to be a whole plastic bag full of stuff. He’s tearing at it with his beak and flinging white bits around in all directions. In the distance is a rocky point and beyond that a few white sails dot the dark blue, rippled water. The horizon is mist. It’s the first day since I arrived in Victoria a week ago that the snow- topped Olympic Mountains have not been visible from here. The weather has been wonderful. I’ve had coffee every morning with Barbara and Terry, twice outside, once at the table and chairs in the garden off the basement suite where I stay and once on the deck above. Coffee and a chat with them eases me into a day with the aged Ps, who are putting up a good fight, but it is a struggle. Mom is the same as Jupiter was when he got old, full of youthful enthusiasm for short periods each day, usually before and during meals. Dad is much more grim. He’s happy to see me and always wants mom to have a good time but every move is difficult for him to make and he pushes his walker into his room to lie down many times a day. He’s so thin that his bum hurts if he sits too long, so he’s happiest flat out on the bed, eyes shut, mouth open and breathing heavily. His mind is inclined to wander, but mom won’t let it stray far; she calls him back to the concerns of the moment and because she’s genuinely helpless in many circumstances, requires him to do or say things.

Yesterday, Barbara and Terry took us out for lunch at Swan’s in downtown Victoria. They had asked us to their place at Christmas and then not been able to have us there because Barbara had a horrible flu, so they made up for it with Christmas in July. Barbara brought a china Santa to decorate the table and Christmas crackers to pull. The whole affair was festive and mom and dad loved it. Swan’s is on a busy street corner near the harbor, so they were able to see for themselves what they had watched on t.v. the night before, the hoards of tourists, tour buses and cars that fill downtown Victoria on this its busiest summer in quite a few years. They don’t get out of Oak Bay much now and miss the action. Dad also enjoys a good beer and he had quite a few during my stay, at restaurants and at home drinking the beer Terry had made and given to us. After the lunch we drove home along the water and saw many of the old cars that are here for a show this weekend. For dinner, dad and I had eggs in the nest and mom enjoyed the last half of the Reuban sandwich she had ordered for lunch. For dessert we finished the fat, juicy cherries that I had brought from Vernon. The whole day was perfect; today wasn’t. They wanted to have their usual Tim Horton’s Sunday breakfast, not in Tim’s, which is dark and deserted on Sunday mornings, but on a bench at Willows Beach. Mom and I went into a nearby Tim’s and brought the breakfast back to dad who waited in the car. Then we drove to Willows. When we got there, I had to drive and stop and slow down and stop and move on again as they debated/argued about which bench we should choose. I made the mistake of entering in at one point and got snapped at. Finally, we settled on a bench that was wood, not concrete, and facing out to sea but away from the sun. The day was cool and cloudy and dad hadn’t worn a sweater, so after all the time taken choosing the perfect perch, we ate and left quite quickly. Mom, not wanting to let any chance for fun escape her, suggested that we drive downtown again and then home along Dallas Road, as we had so successfully done yesterday. We did that, but only to discover that not only can you not step into the same river twice, you can’t even take the same drive on two consecutive days. This time many of the downtown streets were blocked off for special summer busker shows, art walks and antique car rallies, so the traffic was horrendous. We were stuck in it and couldn’t get out for half an hour. When we finally got home, dad pushed his walker into the bedroom and was flat out on the bed before I could turn on the oven and put the stew in.

This break by the ocean has been refreshing. I’ll drive back to mom and dad’s to find them refreshed too, I hope, and eager to Skype with Jay at 5:30. Seeing him and talking with him all the way from Korea always fills them with childlike wonder, me too.

I’m now on the ferry to Vancouver. The Skype with Jay was all that mom and dad had hoped it would be. I was surprised at how calm mom was. She listened to Jay and added her comments as if he were in the room with us. Dad was very happy to talk with Jay for a while, but he can’t sit for long so left us to continue while he wheeled his way back to his room for a lie down. It was sad to leave them on Sunday night. The last couple of partings have felt as if they might be the last for at least one of them, but so far they have carried on.