I have a co-worker who, after about 25 years here at the library, is retiring.
I arrived a little early to his retirement party, digital camera in hand. Standing around, milling about, I found myself at the snacks counter (as one often does), and talking with one of our co-workers (as one often does). Having found me at the snacks counter, he started giving me a hard time: I obviously hadn’t come to show support or say goodbye and good luck to our friend — I’d just come for the free food.
“Yeah,” I said, holding up the camera. “There isn’t even any film in this camera.”
(It’s OK: it took him a couple of minutes, too.)
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Seven hundred and twenty-two days.
In seven hundred and twenty-two days one can have a second child on the opposite coast of one’s home country as one had the first. In seven hundred and twenty-two days one can move four (4!) times, to three different provinces (one twice). In seven hundred and twenty-two days one can get a job in Edmonton, and then decide that no, Edmonton’s not right. In seven hundred and twenty-two days one can make a great many friends, but none that feel quite right, that way.
But on the seven hundred and twenty-third day one can think, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Rain.”
Stompin’ on the old stompin’ grounds.
From the 15th floor, no less
On the seven hundred and twenty-third day one can start again with six days.
Our six days in Vancouver were fantastic. We saw people. And not just the people that we knew and were there to see, but People. Of all walks, races, religions, creeds, orientations and states of (un-)dress. And they were legion. We walked up Burrard to the SkyTrain station Monday morning during rush hour, and we’re absolutely positive that Lilah blew a fuse just from the crush of people. She’s not seen that many people in her year and a half all added up, let alone all together in a two-mile, 35-minute walk. (And then there’s still the big buildings, and the mountains, and the vehicles, and the construction noises, and the buses, and the… and the…).
And the take-away options! We actually had to flip a coin one day to decide whether to have sushi(!) or shawarma(!) for lunch: since we were having Thai that evening for supper, should we go all Asian, or mix it up with a little Middle Eastern?
Oh. And?
Melriches. There’s no link here, for they have no website. But if you live there, you get it. And if you don’t live there, you should totally get it the next time you’re downtown (on Davie, just across from SuperValu). Going in here was I think the very first thing I did after getting settled in to the room. And probably the second, too. And third, maybe.
But back to the people.
Rowan fell in love with friend after friend after friend. She wouldn’t give poor Aunt Cheesefairy a moment’s peace if they were in sight of each other. Always wanting to hold her hand, walk next to her, sit next to her, get pushed on the swing by her. Later, Deb was highly in favour, even unto helping Rowan change into her PJs. Oh! the joy.
Lilah, for her part, was cuckoo for her godmother, Arwen, leading us solidly to the conclusion that we picked the right godparent for each child. Lilah showed the love by constantly calling out for Arwen when Arwen was nowhere to be seen. “Arwen. Arwen. Arwen! ARWEN! ARWEN!!” This, most especially, when she was supposed to be sleeping. (Lilah, that is. I’ve no clue for whom Arwen calls loudly when her parents are hoping for a little time sans children.)
Picnicing the way it was meant to be.
In the rain, under a roof, at a group of tables
We saw (almost) everyone, and we did (almost) everything. We went to Science World and the Aquarium. We visited with uncle Jurgen’s mum and dad. We hung out with Arwen and her sons at their house, where Lilah played with her twin god-brother and Rowan got read to by her oldest, dearest friend in the world.
The four wee bairns.
After surviving Science World together, they were all fast friends
We got to see Jeremy and Meghan and their brood, for the first and second times in absolute ages, though for not long enough. We got to meet babies that were born after we left, and everyone got to meet Lilah.
In some ways it was like we never left. In some ways coming back was the wackiest thing of all time. In most ways being there again really helped to confirm that we made the right choice by leaving (leaving the real estate market, at any rate).
By the end of the week I was far from ready to go. Though it is nice to be at home, where we live, sometimes it’s nice to be home, too.
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