toward Toronto

Back to the past.
*
David and I began applying for schools. We both applied to Cambridge and to the University of Toronto, but other than that our choices were different and often in different countries. Applying for an MA is less work than applying for a PhD, and one hears back much faster. By the early months of 2008, I’d already been accepted to most of the schools I’d applied to. The only ones I hadn’t heard from were the ones I’d applied to with David. I couldn’t afford to go to school in the UK, and I doubted I’d win a huge scholarship, but it was still an option at the time. Our fears were laid to rest when we both got accepted to the University of Toronto. Barring Cambridge (David) or Oxford (me) showering us with huge scholarships, we knew we’d be going together come September.

Meanwhile the smaller things that make up life went on. David was preparing a conference paper and working on his thesis. I had received a huge promotion at work and was trying to save money for our move/the upcoming year. Although we were both stressed with our work for various reasons, I at least wasn’t overwhelmed. Winter looked like it was going to end early and we were looking forward to the future. On top of all this, my mum was taking our whole family on vacation to California in May. David and I were both really touched by her generosity of taking him as part of the family and we spent many weeks counting down ‘til the trip.

Our trip to California was awesome. My parents love how easily David fits into our family and how well he and John get along. And I love having everyone together. It was such a great trip for so many reasons, and its something the five of us still talk about when we get together. A trip with five people isn’t always easy, but we managed to pull it off and I know everyone had fun and got to do what they loved. I know that David’s particular “moment to shine” was when he talked us into staying late at Disneyland one night to watch the Fantasmic. No one had seemed that keen at the idea, but he talked us into it and we loved it. As fun as the rides and sights were, the best part was just being together and knowing that the five of us worked as a family. It was encouraging.

All good times must come to an end, however, and we returned to Edmonton and buckets of stress. David had about a month in which to write his thesis, and four months to get it completely finished in. I was back in my tense office, and this was coupled with the details of planning a move across country. We both complained that it didn’t feel like summer, for the weather was inclement and we weren’t relaxing like we should. Looking back I know that we did a lot of fun stuff--going out for drinks and desserts or appies at our favourite restaurants, evening browsing in Chapters (to harass Sarah) or Wee Book Inn, numerous walks, and a little bit of tourist sightseeing, but at the time it didn’t feel like it. We did manage to see family before we left, at least. My aunt & uncle came up for my Great Aunt’s 80th birthday, and that turned into a giant family reunion at her house. Our friend Madeleine came for a few days as well, in a lovely visit that coincided with when David’s parents were also in town visiting. It was not an empty summer, just stressful one with a few bright spots.

August arrived. We’d booked a moving company and we’d found a place to live. I had three weeks of work left. I was frantically trying to pack our household and trying to not be overly annoyed that David was flying home for a week to see family in the middle of a very busy time. It was a very necessary trip, but the timing was not great. Nevertheless I think I was more productive with the house empty, and I know he had a good time back home. Living so far away from home we both take every chance we can to get home and see family, so one needs to make allowances for it not always being most convenient. When David came back we spent a couple of tense weeks finishing packing and getting his MA from Alberta completed. The amount we spent on cab rides between the university and our house does not need mention, but it was a very frantic time. We barely slept the week before we left, staying up late either visiting people or packing or both.

The worst day was, of course, the last day. I had gone to visit my friend Lydia the night before, and David had said nothing about the time so we stayed out at her place until 7am. We were leaving town that day, and we had last minute errands to run, an apartment to finish cleaning, and our stuff to finish packing for the first couple of weeks before the movers brought everything. I was hung over and exhausted and basically unable to function. I think this worked out well, because I tend to be the controlling and organized one. As I was reduced to a heap of jelly, David easily stepped in and had everything organized and done for us to leave. I didn’t need to worry about a thing, even with all the little things that went wrong (like all the stuff we didn’t have room to pack and had to give away/throw out). It was a wonderful lesson for me to see that he was just as capable, if not more so, of stepping in and getting a job done well even with difficulties. Although I hope our next move will be better (please tell me each one gets easier), I was really encouraged by how well we could work as a team, both picking up where the other left off.

We spent our last few ours in Edmonton with his sister. Then followed tearful goodbyes and a long cab ride to the bus station. Because we were poor and hopeful, we hoped that we would survive the 56 hour bus ride to Toronto, which was a lot cheaper than the plane. We did survive, but barely. I don’t think either of us slept much for the last bit of the trip, and we arrived in Toronto exhausted and nervous. Madeleine met us at the bus station and kindly took us for breakfast at a Tim Horton’s (the only place open that early), and then the three of us cabbed from downtown to our new place. I was bouncing between hopeful and fearful--all we knew of our place was three tiny pictures and various descriptions from talking on the phone. I was also anxious about living in a basement suite, wondering how the low ceilings and lack of light would affect my seasonal depression. The outside of the house looked cute, and we had hope.

Hope began to fail when our Landlady stalled taking us directly to our suite. Hope failed even more when I walked into our suite and realized that the heating PIPE that was supposed to be in our LIVING ROOM was a heating VENT that cut across the functional part of the kitchen, completely filled the hallway (3 or 4’ across), and then continued through the living room. David and I both realized that he could not stand upright under it. Our Landlady showed general unconcern (grr). After dumping our stuff and looking around shocked, David left for a walk for some fresh air/thinking, and a collapsed on the floor in tears and called home. Life in Toronto was not off to a brilliant start.

On a boat at LegoLand

Walking to Fort Edmonton Park. After David cut off his long hippy hair.

Dressed up for his last conference at the U of A.

At a restaurant with Sarah & Tim after a trip to see The Holy Grail on the big screen.

on the prairies

My computer crashed over reading break so I haven’t been online as much as usual--hence the silence. Re: the computer, David was able to hook my hard drive up to our spare computer so that I could get all my files off of it, and I went out yesterday and bought a new laptop so all is well. And on that note of praising my boy’s technological genius in getting my files back, I shall return to our life in Edmonton.
*
If you read anything written by Mennonite immigrants, you learn that life on the prairies is hard (but God provides). And you think that it is hard because they didn’t know the language, had little money and few resources, and were living about 70 years earlier than you were when you moved to the prairies. And all that is true--I certainly don’t want to downplay the experiences of my family and others who immigrated to Canada, or pretend that our suffering was quite as much as theirs. That disclaimer said, life on the prairies IS hard. Or at least WAS hard. In fact our first four months there were probably the most stressful thing I’ve ever faced in my life at that point.

First off, we were essentially broke when we arrived. I had enough money to see me through for about 6 weeks, and David was in school and waiting for his money to come. And his money just would not come. He spent hours in lines and hours on the phone and hours doing whatever he could and one bureaucratic bungle after another meant his documents were always being not sent or not stamped or or or! To top it off, the U of A also sent one of his scholarships to Uvic by mistake…. Meanwhile I was out looking for work, and for a “real” job at that, and it was not quite as easy as I’d hoped. I’m not saying it took me long to find work, but just that it was hard to find something I wanted to do and that wanted me. A lot of places said I was overqualified, for example.

Then a wonderful day happened in which I had three interviews and got two job offers and a temp position. So I did the logical thing and took the higher paying job that was in an office, instead of the temp job or the cool retail position at Gordon Price Music (that was willing to pay me quite a bit but not quite as much as the office). And I discovered that being a receptionist was a) the most boring job in the world and b) really hard when you aren’t trained properly or given much work to do. And this isn’t the place to go into it here, but it turned out that they were just using me, and I got fired the day before my birthday. It was pretty awful, because my six-weeks of money were almost gone and now I had no job and no money and was out looking for work again.

I took my birthday off from looking for work and we had a lovely evening at the symphony (my present from David) and I got to open my lovely birthday presents from parents and parents-in-law (wedding china, early!)…and the next day I sat down to look for work and was called in for an interview at High Speed Printing about an hour after I emailed them, and was hired the same day about three hours after that. I mention this because God is good! David had promised that everything would be alright as well.

So I had a job, for less pay than I’d wanted but enough that I could pay my share of bills and my student loan payments etc. But the jerks that fired me also neglected to give me my pay for the two weeks of work I’d put in, so I had to take them to the Employment Board, and it took almost a month to get my owed pay. And David still had no money aside from the bit he made off his TA job at the university, an amount which did not even cover bills. And even once I had my missed pay and the pay from my new job, I did not have much more than $100 spare at the end of the month to help out, so it was worrisome. Finally, around the beginning of November, all his paperwork had gone through and we could relax. I remember spending four hours making a fancy lasagne on Remembrance Day. It was very snowy outside and we were getting ready to sit up to a warm, comforting meal. Then the phone rang and there was yet another snag on his money being released. It was easy to fix, but words cannot even describe the waves of discouragement that washed over us at that moment of thinking we were finally in the clear and then realizing there was another hill to climb.

One of the most touching things, for me, that happened during this time was the day David sent me to the salon. I’ve never been one to care over much about my hair, but one day in December it was just driving me nuts. It was long and super-dry from the prairie air, and I just couldn’t take it any more. So I was sitting around complaining about it and the next thing I knew David had opened his wallet and given me a bit of money with the instructions to put it toward a haircut at the salon that afternoon. There is something incredibly amazing to me about this man who, having hardly enough money to buy a case of beer or a new book, hands me some money so that I can go out and feel a little better about myself. So I went out, and it was perhaps the nicest time I’ve ever had getting my hair done. I went to Aveda and they pampered me with tea, a massage, an awesome haircut, and some makeup on my way out the door. It was just awesome, especially because of my means of going there.

By the time I went home that Christmas I was emotionally exhausted. I couldn’t even think of life in Edmonton without feeling ill. All was not black, however. Experiencing such stress together really brought us closer, and it strengthened our faith as well as when you cannot rely on yourself or your partner you are forced to rely on God in a way you don’t normally have to. I had seen more miracles happen for us in those four months than I ever had before--small things, sure, but ones nonetheless. We had survived something very difficult on our own, and it did not break us up, it just made us stronger. I’ve never regretted moving to Edmonton.

2007. We had some tense moments when David’s spring fund disbursement was to come, but that went through with no problem. I got a raise at work that spring as well, and it brought my salary up to what I’d wanted it to be. My job was very stressful and the office environment was often toxic, but I did well at my work and I really enjoyed proofreading. David was proving himself brilliant at school, and winning the acclaim of his professors.

Life began forming a calm and settled pattern. We only really socialized with David’s sister and her boyfriend, but that was fine by us (good company and all that). Most of our time we spent together, just enjoying each other’s company--exploring Edmonton or reading at home. I took up cooking with a vengeance, we kept up our opera subscriptions, and we began creating our own life. Life was peaceful. We began to speak more and more of the future, and getting married. We’d survived a nightmare and come out stronger, and in the aftermath we had a life of peace, not conflict. It boded well for a future together.

So the months passed. Summer in Edmonton is almost like paradise, at least compared to the eight months of winter. David was able to work and I had my raise so we had some money to play around with. Family members made various trips out to see us, which allowed us to also meet more of our Edmonton-area family. I particularly loved the 9 days my family spent with us because we spent so much time playing tourists. I know that it really helped my family get to know David--they rarely get to see him since we both have family obligations over vacations home and Port isn’t near enough to Victoria to make it easy, so these vacations together have been quite nice. My family went home mid-August. After that both of us knew that our summer break was over and it was time to focus on the next milestone in our life--applying to grad schools and facing the possibility of spending the next 3-6 years apart.

After my trip to the salon.

David carrying home groceries in -30c (there are more groceries on his back)

An evening at Sarah's.

David's collection of books littering the floor in my room.

Prairie Couple

towards a big decision

When I left off, David was on his way to Spain and I was alone for one of the longest months of my life. I spent that afternoon wandering around downtown, and bought myself a cheap bead ring to wear on my ring finger until he got back (keep the boys away) and a notebook so that I could write to him every day and give it to him when he got back. Then I set about keeping myself sane for thirty days. It was not always easy—I tend to be anxious and it did not help that there were bombings in London at this time, and I was worried in general about unknown “dangers of travel”. David, ever thoughtful, sent me a letter a week. He’d message me on MSN, and there were the occasional emails. He even phoned once, but that was just to tell me about an exhibit of Marian manuscripts that I was missing by staying in BC! I went over to his parents once while he was gone, but I found it too hard to be at his house without him. So, I spent my time working and visiting with friends and building a dollhouse—anything to keep me occupied. I also, for one of the few times in my life, felt the budding of a nicotine addiction. I permitted myself one clove cigarette a week, which I’d usually smoke on the doorstep of my apartment building while gazing off into the summer dusk and waiting for another week to pass by.

Finally the day of his return came. I don’t remember how I occupied myself that day—probably sitting excitedly at my desk and counting the minutes. Then it was time to head downtown. I knew his family would be just as excited to see him as I was so I didn’t expect much time with him, but by a stroke of luck (for me) they were late to the bus station. His bus pulled in and he stepped off, gripped my shoulders, gave me a look I’ll never forget, and kissed me. Then his dad and sisters showed up and we drove off to Langford for dinner and presents and stories. David showered me with gifts and wouldn’t let me leave his sight. It was so nice. I had to work the next day, but after that we spent the remaining bits of summer together every day, non-stop, until school started. Then it was into our last year of university.

The final year of a BA can be very unsettling, as all of a sudden the future looms unknown. We both had to decide what we planned to do after graduation, with the realization that it might mean miles between us. I decided to take time off to see if I really wanted to pursue a graduate degree. David, meanwhile, decided to apply to grad school. I considered my options: move back to Port Alberni, remain in Victoria, move with David to wherever he ended up. I know I prayed and worried a lot about it, but the choice also seemed obvious. I told David that, if he wanted, I’d move with him come September. That affected him more than I thought it would, because to me it seemed to obvious and to him it was so huge. And, that said, we began making plans.

I think some of my family was a little shocked, or at least concerned, that I was considering moving far away from home with a man I wasn’t even engaged too. By this time David and I had already talked about getting married and knew that we would, one day. I, however, at 22 years old was not in a rush—particularly when I did not even know what I wanted to do with my future. I don’t think it helped matters that we were planning to get a two bedroom apartment and live as roommates. Neither of us felt that living common-law was in line with our religious beliefs and convictions, so although we’ve been living together for three years now we have kept this barrier in place. We are not a family, yet.

Stress and anxiety about the future aside, this last year in Victoria was near bliss for me. I moved into my own apartment in December, 2005. I had a balcony and an ocean view, and I lived near everything I loved about Victoria. It was so nice after four years of always living with or around people to have my own space. David, of course, spent a lot of time over and I have all these lovely memories of take out Chinese or pizza, snack-dashes to the Market on Yates, walks around downtown Victoria, and parties at our friends’ places in the same building. It was so lovely, and perhaps made more so because I knew that each day was closer to the last. In July we managed to get away on a camping trip with our friend Hannah and I found myself trying to memorize every bit of the Island for when I had to leave it.

The school year wound to a close. David accepted an offer from the University of Alberta. I was happy, because I had family there and because due to the labour shortage I knew I’d be able to find a job. Housing was quite worrisome due to the shortage, but thankfully my cousins had just bought a house with a 2-bedroom suite upstairs and were more than happy to rent it to us. Although I didn’t manage to find a job in Edmonton before we left, I at least had enough money saved to see me through at least a month of unemployment.

Moving was stressful. I left Victoria for good and made three trips back to Port with my belongings. My parents had offered to drive us and whatever we could fit in their minivan. David’s family was going to ship the rest of our belongings. There was so much tension in the air about packing—what to bring, how much room in the van etc. At times I questioned my sanity in moving to Edmonton. The day for moving finally arrived. We crammed the vehicle within an inch of its life and drove off. One night in Vancouver, where I said goodbye to my extended family. Then, 14 hours towards Alberta and the beginning of a new stage in life.

We arrived late at night and quickly unpacked. As we brought the last few things into the house a hailstorm broke, which seemed to me at the time as if all the powers of hell were unleashing their fury against us for making it this far. Given the testing and growth that occurred there, I’m not so sure that I was wrong in this initial assessment! But, for the time being, it was just a matter of me running around trying to get our household in order while David ran about the university doing all the little bureaucratic business things that come with a new degree. My parents stayed for a couple of days to help us out by driving us around. Then they were gone and we were alone. I set out to look for work, and David began his studies. And our first four months in Edmonton set out to greet us with unpleasant surprises…

David & I on a visit to Port Alberni

David after diving into a pile of boxes during unpacking in Edmonton.

together at last

I really should be studying for a latin exam. I have ten pages of verbs (each with four parts and a translation) to memorize for Thursday afternoon. But…
*
Moving back to Victoria that September was the first time I’d been excited to move back after a summer at home. I think I moved back on a Monday, and David was too busy with family stuff (his mum’s birthday and sisters returning from their vacation abroad) to see me until Wednesday. After my parents left town I aimlessly wandered around downtown Victoria, hoping to bump into David. No such luck. By Tuesday I’d had enough. After five months apart it was torture to be in the same city as him and still unable to spend time together. I decided to surprise him at work. I dressed up a little (which at the time in my life meant wearing a skirt over my jeans) and went downtown to Vinnie’s. I know love must have crept into my face because a random stranger tried to pick me up on the bus. Aside from that, I made it downtown without incident and walked into the store where I was happy to see that David was working the front till. So I leaned on the counter and waited for him to turn around. And when he turned around he literally did a double take because he couldn’t believe that after a summer of thinking he was seeing me around town but knowing he wasn’t I’d actually materialize before his eyes. We hung out for a bit after work that day, and then he had to rush home. I came over the next day and we spent the whole day together, our last free day before school started. He had saved an unopened LP of “Autumn Leaves” in honour of the occasion and we spent the day listening to records and hanging out. It was so lovely.

The school year began. I remember having numerous grass fights with David on the UVic lawns where we’d eat lunch. We started a new tradition of reviewing our Latin translations together each morning before class. And, I don’t know exactly how it happened, but over the first few weeks of school we became nearly inseparable. I have many beautiful memories from this time.

As we were finally together we had the chance to do things! And thus began various happy adventures. In October we celebrated our first gift-giving occasion together, namely my birthday, where David surprised me with a beautiful gold & peridot fleur-de-lis necklace. A week later we went to see the opera “Norma”, beginning our love of opera and questing after season tickets year after year. That weekend I also took David over to Vancouver to meet some of my extended family. They seemed to approve. We also started going on day trips to explore the Gulf Islands. Before we moved away we had made it to Mayne, Pender, and Salt Spring.

That was also the year that I got to finally experience a much fuller life than what I’d been living. I began hanging out with David’s friends and going to the club Evolution, where we spent many a Monday and Wednesday night dancing like crazy and having a blast. We went to a bunch of parties (including one with people sword fighting. That was awesome) and concerts (Gwar, Blue Oyster Cult, April Wine, Bob Dylan to name a few). I know some of my friends do not understand the appeal of say, Gwar, but David notes that concert as a real turning point in our relationship. He knew that I was a good Catholic girl, which he thought was awesome, but wasn’t sure how I’d respond to more secular activities. Apparently my reaction of utter glee at a concert where I was sprayed with fake blood, watched intergalactic warriors attack various dummies on stage, and saw way more man-butt-in-leather-codpiece than I normally do settled it for him. It also settled things for me. Although I take my spirituality very seriously, I am not one who likes to be very serious. I had known for a long time that if I wanted to be happy in a relationship I would need to find someone who could love me for who I am—be it me meditating and praying in church, or me cursing like a sailor and slamming back rum & cokes. I wanted to be with someone who could help me realize my full potential in becoming a well-rounded person, and I knew this wouldn’t happen with anyone other than someone who could love me without trying to control one side or the other. I am lucky.

All this said, it was not the easiest of years. I was having a really hard time in school and I wasn’t handling my stress well. I also had yet to realize that I cannot drink very often without becoming depressed. Although we’re not the type to have a huge blow-up, we had some very tense times…all corrected by good conversation, but still. It was not always easy.

As summer approached I knew I didn’t want to move back to Port. David was planning to spend all of August in Spain, and I wanted every minute I could have with him before he left. I had thought that five months apart was hard, but at least then we could communicate. I knew Spain meant a month of being unable to contact him at all. It was looming in my mind as the scariest relationship thing I had to face yet. So I took a horrible job at Value Village, sorting donated clothing for 40 hours a week, and I lived in a horrible fire-trap apartment for the cheap rent I could afford, and I tried to squeeze as much fun as possible into the summer while dreading each day that drew us closer to August. I was an emotional basket case. Then August came, and the next thing I knew David was on a bus heading to the airport and I was, yet again, standing alone on Douglas with a kiss burning on my lips and a heart full of sorrow.

David & I at Evo. I love his hair in this picture.

More Evo. This is for "aww" effect. I think my cousin took it...

Dressed up to go to the opera. I don't know which one.

In the Japanese Garden on Mayne Island

Hanging out at Steve's in the summer