The Roads We Travel

Twenty-one years ago, Shari and I (and kids) were on our way home from a vacation road trip when we got the call that my mom was in hospital not doing so well. She had been sick for quite some time, but we did not realize that she had declined so suddenly. We made it to the hospital that night in time to visit. Early the next morning, on July 10, 2001, my mom – Elsie – passed away. She was 58 years old.

In May of this year, I turned 58 years old. I am now the age my mom was when she passed.

I’m finding that to be very weird. I know how I feel at this age – feeling like I still have a lot of life experience ahead of me. I would feel very unfairly short-changed if this is all there was. And yet for her, this was as far as her road goes. When people talk about “an entire lifetime” it’s usually more than this.

So here I share some of my best thoughts and memories of her life…

We were a young family. When I was born my mom was just 21 years old, and my dad was 25. In the mid-1960’s work and money were scarce. We didn’t have much, but we were happy. Mom was a stay-at-home mom (as many were back then) and Dad found work when he could get it. But being a stay-at-home mom didn’t come with an instruction manual. I recall the story of her learning to cook… Dad wanted a steak. Mom didn’t know how to cook a steak. So Dad says, “Just throw it in a hot frying pan until it’s the right colour on both sides.” So she did. Looked great on the outside – but completely raw in the middle! He ate it anyways – he was a good sport.

Her cooking improved a lot since then, and she taught me lot about cooking from an early age. By third grade I was making my own popcorn in a heavy metal pot on a gas stove, while melting butter in another pan. No microwaves back then! By the time I was in tenth grade she decided to re-enter the workforce. With dad working varying shifts, the time he arrived home changed depending on his shift. My brother and I finished school at roughly the same time each day, but the time we got home varied if we had any after-school activities. Mom’s job was pretty consistent which got her home around the same time each day, which was a bit later than an ordinary school day. So the house rule was: “This is what we’re having for dinner today… Whoever gets home first starts cooking!” I credit my mom for giving me a great cooking education.

Mom was a Christmas fanatic. For as far back as I can remember, she made sure everyone knew it was Christmas. There was always a tree – as big as we can get without scratching the ceiling. She had her boxes of old fancy fragile glass ornaments, all carefully individually wrapped in paper, filling the tree. Several kinds of garland. And tinsel that was individually placed one strand at a time (and then after Christmas it was removed one strand at a time and neatly packed up for the next year). Decorations on every flat surface in the house. Windows with stencilled spray-on “snow”. Lights in the tree and around the inside of every window. And gifts – always lots of gifts under the tree for everyone! Christmas Day was a day of food – from a big pancake breakfast (Dad looked after that), to snacks and goodies all day to graze on, and ending with a huge turkey dinner with so many sides you can barely fit some of everything on your plate.

Mom loved animals. Small animals, big animals, everything in between. She always had “critter food” available for any takers.

I inherited my love of animals from her!

Mom loved to travel and explore. In the Summer of 1980, our family did a driving vacation across Canada. We took a month to go coast-to-coast, stopping to see as much as we could in every province along the way. In retrospect, this was the greatest educational experience ever – getting to see the entire country in-person “from sea to shining sea”. Since then, my parents kept on travelling covering Europe, Asia, and doing the cross-Canada trip once more but on motorcycle!
Growing up, whenever I was in the car when one of my parents was driving I would often ask, “If we keep driving on this road without stopping, where would we end up?” Apparently if you’re in British Columbia and that road is the Trans-Canada Highway, the answer is The Atlantic Ocean. The cross-Canada trip proved that! If you’re in British Columbia on Hwy 99 going South, that turns into US Interstate-5, which turns into Mexico Federal Hwy 1 (aka Carretera Transpeninsular) which ends in Cabo San Lucas – where I am today! I guess I inherited that travel bug too.

So, here I am at the end of the road – but only geographically. For me, life still has many roads ahead. It’s weird thinking that mom had to stop at the point where I’m still carrying on. I’m sure she’s watching from somewhere – some road I hope not to take for quite some time still.

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