Single Step

A few years ago, I said to good-bye to 4 close friends as they made their way through cancer diagnosis, treatment, terminal illness and death. My best friend, Sharon, was one of those and there are times when I wonder what God was thinking.

Sharon faced her failing health and heartbreaking grief with courage and fear, resolve and despair, faith and doubt as any ordinary person might. The thing that was extraordinary was her honesty and sense of humour. We talked about “the God of broad shoulders” and trusted that He could take whatever she threw at Him. Following the examples of the psalmists, she really let Him have it. It was a laid-bare place where God met her, responding in the sweetness of His presence and with His own unique sense of humour. For Sharon, beauty and peace were the result.

She liked to say that this journey was also mine. I prayed for the ability to slip into her skin; to know as best as another could. It was in my dreams that I gained a measure of understanding. It was the place where I was her and she was me. People ask me how Sharon coped; how I coped and I say it was God’s grace alone. It’s true.

No, there is nothing in particular that reminds me of her this autumn season. It is everything in general. And although I don’t grieve like people I know who feel they have no hope of being reunited with loved ones, and I do hope to see her again, I miss her.

“A small town is where everyone knows whose cheque is good and whose husband is not.” Sid Ascher

In the spring we downsized by 70,000 people, 1700 square feet and 20 km. It’s taking us a little longer than expected to settle into our new community after spending 3 months of the past 4 living in our VW van while traveling across Canada. So we decided to make August and September Ladysmith courtship months and we have come to a conclusion; it’s a relationship worth fostering.

I was in the health food store last week and commented to the owner that there always seems to be something going on in town. She nodded emphatically. Thursday evenings the main street blocks traffic for a small but lively farmers’ market. Not long ago the Show and Shine gang was in town dazzling crowds with old restored and modified vehicles. One sunny Sunday local artisans lined the main street for Arts on the Avenue and the Festival of Lights is just around the corner.

Ladysmith is also a great place to walk. We live at the north end, not far from the old hospital and it takes me about 10 minutes to walk to historic downtown, another 10 to climb Symonds Street for stunning ocean views or hike up Roberts where I stop in to check in on the community garden. Along 6^th I pass the Community Centre, tackle my 300 stairs then meander 20 minutes through charming character neighbourhoods toward home where I arrive rejuvenated in more ways than one.

Since I plan to take a few courses this fall, it seemed prudent to me to earn a bit of cash in order to pay my own way. So I brushed up my resume, braved my insecurities and headed out the door. Within an hour I was blessed with a job that lets me play with food in the company of fun-loving locals.

It’s certainly looking a lot more like home here in lovely Ladysmith.

To say we “booked it” home would be highly appropriate and was it ever great to get there!  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Boise is a university town and since classes begin soon for students the town was filled with parents helping college kids get settled into their new digs.

Our morning drive took us through the Snoqualmie Valley, where, I am not too proud to admit that I broke out in spontaneous cheers when I saw the mountains. Real, westcoast mountains! The trees were huge! The biggest we have seen since leaving this part of our lovely world.

If you have been to the University of Washington area in Seattle, you know that it boasts some good, common sense, reasonably priced hotels and that’s usually where we sleep well in this otherwise sleepless city. The choices for a variety of ethnic foods are plentiful and we always eat well in Seattle.

On our way home we stopped for 15 minutes at the Tulalip outlet mall. Yes, only 15 minutes, which was just enough time for me to one-stop-shop for a year’s worth of underclothing at Jockey. Gord loves it when I power-shop.

A last-minute diversion took us to Anacortes where we looked at a lovely trawler just for fun.

The Tsawwassen ferry carried us toward our island home as we sailed alongside a pod of a dozen or more Orcas who also apparently feel quite at home in these waters.

Instead of heading north to our Lost Lake house, we headed south to Ladysmith where we found our well-tended home and our son and his darling new bride awaiting our arrival. There are fewer more welcoming homecoming gestures than hugs and I’m so thankful that my family is generous with theirs.

We are home. Thank you so very much for travelling with us. We hope you have enjoyed the journey. We have loved having you along.

“Homecoming means coming home to what is in your heart.” Author Unknown

Happy news! Stella’s malady was a $160 problem that was fixed within a couple of hours so it wasn’t long before Colorado was history and Utah became a reality.

When we first bought Stella she did not have the capacity to stay cool under heated conditions, so we made reparations. Jaunting along at 75 miles an hour in 100 degree weather Stella refreshes us and runs along like a fine tuned Swiss watch. I can see why VW Eurovans invite such a loyal following.

Little did we know that Salt Lake City, which boasts a 50% Mormon population, was in the throes of Pioneer Days. The celebrations, which include fireworks, music, markets and a parade, commemorate pioneering history here in Utah. A local TV station broadcasted the colourful life of Brigham Young in an hour long special and so we have learned a few things since our arrival. The parade ran from 9-12 noon but we only stayed for 90 minutes as my shoes were beginning to melt to the pavement. The floats reminded me of my childhood parade-watching days in Kelowna and the Americans certainly know how to do marching bands.

Then off we headed for Boise, Idaho, a 6 hour drive northwest. The terrain would have looked lunar at any time of the year. As a matter of fact, a State park just northeast of one of our junctions is appropriately called Craters of the Moon. We visited there when our kids were young so didn’t see a reason to return.

Gord spotted a pillar of cloud on the horizon as we approached a knoll, which we concluded was a brush fire. Fire risk is high around these parts right now and we will be glad to rest our eyes on the lushness of the coast. We can almost smell the salt air.

People have asked us how we choose where we’ll go and that’s easy. We’ve either read something or talked to someone or seen photos of a place that intrigues us. Sometimes it’s the person at our intended destination and that’s why we find ourselves in Colorado. Last summer Gord worked with a couple of interns on the Challenge Course and one of them, Cody, is interning as a Wrangler at Young Life’s Trail West. Let me tell you, our precious time with Cody was worth every mile.

On our way we stopped at the Garden of the Gods near Pike’s Peak. Except for the paved pathways, it reminded us of Zion and Bryce Canyons in Utah with the red rock pillared formations and sandstone cliffs. The glory of God shows itself in many forms and we are once again in awe of our created world.

If you have never heard of Grand Junction, there is a reason for that. You are hearing about it now because that’s where we’re waiting word from the local mechanic on when he can help Stella feel better. She doesn’t take to high altitudes and let us know by revving her engine like she’s off to the races. I guess she decided that wasn’t enough of a warning so she activated her oil pressure alarm. We took her to an import mechanic and his thought was that she was reacting to the altitude too. Well, she finally began crying oil all over the pavement so we knew things were serious. Poor girl.

We hope she’s just blown a gasket and our reassurances that we are headed to sea level along with some expert medical attention might just bring her back up to snuff so she can get us home. She’s done remarkably well so far, not minding the 41 degree temperatures, the fast pace, bugs and dust. She’s quite a gal and we want her all better!

You may wonder if tornadoes frequent Kansas and apparently they don’t. Instead, communities prepare for weekend fairs where young bakers, horticulturalists, livestock handlers and textile artisans display their wares for adjudication and fun. Today is fair day in Hillsboro and our day has been spent in preparation for it, amidst 106 degree temperatures.

The local paper showed up this morning to gather information on Isaac’s rockets (which won blue ribbons) so there was the interview then the launch. David also entered a rocket in the fair that won red, which he said was because of the imperfect paint job. I was still impressed. Jessie’s veggies won first in every category and in my opinion her gorgeous red satin dress should have won blues too. She’s competing in next weekend’s fair so took her horse, Babe, out to race the barrels and practice pole bending. Hannah’s forte is sewing so her projects needed no further prep and it’s no surprise that she also won top spot. Go Perry kids!

Their amazing mom, Tam, coordinates all this and sets the tone for the sense of warmth and joy in their lovely home. Sadly, dad Tom, was away for work and we are sorry we missed him.

It’s been a country time here in farmland and there have been several country joys for me. I rode in a pony and cart with Jessie, I got to ride Hannah’s horse around the property, I picked tomatoes and jalapeño peppers, we had a lovely afternoon siesta, we were spectators at a pre-fair parade where we drank fresh squeezed lemonade and checked out chickens with wild hairdos among other things…

had a crazy fast ride in Isaac’s go-cart, attended a little country church and immersed ourselves in Heartland.

We want to extend our biggest thanks and much love to the Perry family for their generous country hospitality. It’s been just delightful.