Month: July 2012

Who’s the parent?

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As my mother’s Alzheimer’s progresses and caring for her becomes a greater challenge for my father, our relationship is changing. I’m beginning to feel more like parent than child. No longer is a visit a time to kick back and relax. Instead, it’s a time when I do whatever I can to make their lives a little bit easier.

For the past several years, we’ve been in the habit of giving the apartment a thorough cleaning whenever we visited; doing the things that Dad didn’t have the time or energy for or that his failing eyesight kept him from noticing. Now there’s Victoria, the bubbly Filipina housekeeper/caregiver who comes in twice a week. What a blessing she has been! This time we didn’t have to do any housework but there were many other ways that we were able to help out.

Until this visit, my proud and independent father had never asked me for help. In fact, in the past, much of what we did around the apartment we did when he was out because he wouldn’t have wanted us to do it. Now, however, all that has changed. For the first time ever, my father actually asked me for help! Together we took care of paperwork that he would have needed a magnifying glass to struggle through on his own. I also accompanied them to the geriatric clinic, took care of Mom while Dad went to the dentist and shopped for things for Mom and for the apartment.

It would be so much easier if we lived closer and I could drop in for a few hours once or twice a week instead of visiting only three or four times a year but I can’t beat myself up over that. I couldn’t afford to live in Vancouver even if I wanted to. The cost of housing is astronomical. When I start feeling guilty about not being there often enough, I simply remind myself that it was my parents who moved me far away from there in the first place. They chose to return long after I’d grown up and made a life for myself somewhere else.

Each time we visit, I go away happy if I feel that we’ve won a few victories; accomplished a few things that make life better for them. This time that included Richard taking Dad out to shop for some much needed clothing for himself.

I don’t think I’ll ever be completely comfortable with the need to cut my mother’s meat for her and help her dress, the things that she once did for me, but I’m glad to be able to do them once in awhile. I was especially delighted to be able to take her out for a long walk in the sunshine. Though she enjoyed it thoroughly and some of the flowers in Central Park were bright enough for her to actually be able to see, she seldom agrees to leave the apartment except to go to medical appointments.

Cathedral Grove

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Our recent drive to Port Alberni to spend a few days with Richard’s aunt and uncle involved passing through Cathedral Grove in Vancouver Island’s MacMillan Provincial Park. Though we’ve been there many times before, the towering stands of Douglas fir and Western red cedar never cease to amaze us. Trails on both sides of the highway allow visitors to stand in awe beneath these majestic giants, some more than 800 years old.

The park has changed since I walked its pathways as a child and since we wandered there with our own children some years back. On New Year’s Day 1997, a severe windstorm changed its look forever. Hundreds of huge trees were toppled and now lie amongst the undergrowth and some sections of the trail system were obliterated. Repairs to the trail system began immediately but fallen trees are part of nature. They open the canopy to provide light, space, shelter and nutrients for new growth. As gorgeous as the giant trees are, the lush growth on the forest floor is equally fascinating.

This year, geocaching added a new element to our visit to the park. Though there are several of them there, we decided to look for just two caches; one on each side of the highway. The dense canopy made it difficult for the GPS, which depends on satellite signals from high overhead, to give us accurate readings but hints given on the geocaching website helped us locate them. We had to be stealthy so as not to give away their locations to the many “muggles” (non geocachers) who were also enjoying the park.

   

I still love riding the ferries

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The BC ferries were as much a part of my childhood as trick-or-treating at Halloween or opening gifts at Christmas. My birthplace, Powell River, wasn’t accessible by road until I was almost five. As the crow flies it’s less than 150 km north of Vancouver, but even today the trip takes about four and a half hours and involves two ferry rides. In the early days, the road across the peninsula between Earl’s Cove and Langdale was a narrow, winding one. Riding the ferries was a welcome break from carsickness and boredom brought on by the long drive.

Perhaps if I’d spent my entire life at the coast and continued to ride the ferries regularly, I might be as ho hum about it as many passengers are but for me, the ferry is still a thrill. I can’t simply hunker down with a book or my laptop as many passengers do. Regardless of the weather, I have to walk the outer decks and stand at the bow with the wind whipping through my hair. There are usually a few others who join me there.

It’s been several years since we last made the trip to Powell River but our time at the coast this summer did include riding ferries. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the ocean as calm as it was the day that we crossed over to Vancouver Island to spend a few days visiting relatives of Richard’s at Port Alberni and Nanaimo. Though Richard was one of the many who sat inside the entire way across, after we’d eaten lunch in the onboard restaurant on the return trip I did manage to get him to join me outside where he took a few photos of me reliving childhood memories and enjoying one of my favourite modes of travel.

   

Knouff Lake, British Columbia

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When Richard’s sisters and brothers gathered for our niece’s wedding at Sun Peaks, several of us camped together at beautiful Knouff Lake Resort. Towing our trailers up the long steep climb to the crystal clear lake nestled between the mountains about 3800 feet above sea level was well worth the effort. Established in 1904, this 4-season resort is advertised as one of the oldest fishing camps in B.C. but it is much more. Surrounded by the beauty of nature, it provides a tranquil getaway from the hustle of day to day life. Owners, Don and Gloria Lamberton, went out of their way to make our stay a comfortable and memorable one. They even provided us with a key to the gate so that family could come and go after the usual 10:00 p.m. closing time.

That’s our trailer on the right.

Our sister-in-law, Brenda, is an avid geocacher like us. When I mentioned that I’d seen on the geocaching.com website that there was a cache hidden on one of Knouff Lake’s tiny islands, she was determined that we should find it. Richard’s sister, Sue, was intrigued when she heard us talking about searching for these hidden treasures so the morning after the wedding, she joined us and the three of us set off on an adventure. The husbands, thinking us a bit crazy, stayed in camp.

Though I much prefer the quietness of a canoe, the Lambertons were reluctant to rent one to three prairie chicks so we set out in a big, flat-bottomed rowboat instead. Since I was born a coastal girl and learned to row at the age of 6 or 7, I took the oars and off we went. Sue was a little nervous but I assured her that we’d have to try very hard to capsize that thing on such calm waters. By the time we returned to camp, she’d taken a turn at the oars and what fun we’d had!

As we pulled ashore on Beaver Island, we three women in our 50s and 60s felt like kids on a Tom Sawyeresque adventure. With GPS units in hand, we clambered through the undergrowth and soon found the cache exactly where it was supposed to be.

My sis-in-laws, Sue & Brenda

We’d also been told about a memorial on one of the other islands, placed there in memory of an avid fisherman and outdoorsman who hosted an annual fishing derby at the lake each summer until his untimely death in 2009. Before returning to camp we rowed over to check that out and also discovered the skeleton of a teepee standing nearby.

Until Stacey began planning her wedding we were completely unaware that Knouff Lake (also known as Sullivan Lake) even existed but now that we’ve found this hidden gem, we’ll likely be back again. It’s only a short distance off our usual route between home and Vancouver, a trek that we make two or three times a year to visit grandchildren and elderly parents. We don’t often have the trailer with us though so perhaps next time we’ll rent one of the rustic log cabins overlooking the lake.

Here comes the bride!

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On a misty summer morning ten years ago my cousin was married in the First Nations feasthouse on the top of Grouse Mountain overlooking Vancouver, BC. Though he arrived via the Grouse Grind, a challenging 2.9 km hiking trail that climbs 2800 feet up the face of the mountain, his bride and most of the guests took the easier way up the mountain arriving via the Skyride, North America’s largest aerial tramway.

On Friday, we attended another mountain wedding. Our niece , Stacey, was married high above Sun Peaks Resort near Kamloops, BC. This time the bridal party and their guests, including Stacey’s 88-year-old grandmother, arrived via chairlift!

It was a beautiful sunny day and the setting was spectacular.

The ceremony was simple and meaningful. It was truly a family celebration with Stacey’s brother, Martin, as her “man of honour” and Gerhard’s father and older brother as his two groomsmen. Even Odin, their beloved canine was present! Richard was honoured to be asked to bring a blessing.

Congratulations, Stacey and Gerhard! May all your days be blessed and may your life together be as beautiful as the day on the mountain!

A life of its own

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I’m a Site Stats junkie. When I’m at home, I check WordPress several times a day to see how many people have viewed my blog. I guess that sounds a little narcissistic but I love knowing that someone has read what I’ve written and I’m always fascinated to see where they’re from and what search terms have led them here.

We were home for less than a week in June. Most of the month I was either camping without internet access or so busy that I didn’t have time to spend online. Consequently, I only posted three times and I rarely checked my stats. When I finally did, it was with a bit of trepidation. Had Following Augustine died of neglect? Would my stats page show nothing but a flat line like a heart monitor on a patient with no pulse?

No! It appears that the blog has taken on a life of its own.

Even when I’m not here, when I’m off gallivanting instead of writing and I’m not even checking my stats, you, my faithful readers are still here!

It thrills me to know that because the trailer is packed and we’re leaving again tomorrow morning! There will probably be much to blog about over the next few weeks but once again, we won’t always have access to the internet and when we do I’ll sometimes be too busy. There’s a family wedding to attend near Kamloops, BC and grandchildren and aging parents to visit in Vancouver. We’ll also cross by ferry to Vancouver Island and spend a few days with some of Richard’s relatives at Port Alberni. When our time with family is over, rather than coming straight home, we’re going to follow BC’s gold rush trail through the mighty Fraser River canyon to Cache Creek then on northward through Cariboo country. With a side trip to historic Barkerville, we’ll continue at least as far north as Prince George before circling back into Alberta. Along the way there will be geocaches to find and perhaps a few golf course to play as well as lots of history to explore.

Yes, there will be much to blog about and I will update as often as possible. In the meantime though, I’m happy to know that the blog will survive without me!