Gratitude

Last year on the day after Christmas, family members and I boarded a plane in Toronto. Five and a half hours later we were enjoying a late lunch at a lovely Chinese restaurant in Richmond, British Columbia. We texted relatives that we would catch the six o’clock ferry to join them on Bowen Island and anticipated the celebration of marriage of a family member and her new husband the next day.

This year some of the same family members picked me up to transport me to the one permitted household - with presents for exchange,, a floral arrangement sent from the BC relatives, home-made cookies from an exchange among Toronto friends, and my dinner contribution of an English trifle.  We settled in for a leisurely lunch, while my son did the cooking and viewed an interchange on his laptop in the kitchen and the rest of us visited with extended family members on another one in the dinning room – one from a recently purchased schoolhouse getaway in Eastern Ontario, one from a dacha outside Moscow, another from an apartment in Winnipeg, Manitoba at minus forty degrees – where Fahrenheit and Centigrade temperatures actually meet – colder than the home of one of the residents from Finland – and another stuck in Ottawa where the meeting of the Canadian Senate kept him from flying home in time. 

 On Christmas Eve we had gathered on Zoom for an even larger gathering where another family member read “A Child’s Christmas in Wales”.  Three generations of one family had lived there, either teaching at or attending one of the United World Colleges. Members were now spread out in different countries but still seeing one another on the screen.  Another presented a radio presentation, where he acted as Trinculo in Shakespeares’ The Tempest - reprising a performance that his grandfather had done decades earlier. Another accompanied himself on a guitar while singing a Psalm in both Hebrew and English. His sister played and sang a carol. His aunt played a clarinet to show us what she could do after working with one for only six months. I read my Covid parody.

And all this is seen as possible – and normal during a pandemic. And we would never have thought to connect with so many at once - until we couldn’t do so in person.

 How different it is from the pandemic of 1918. My father was 18 years old that year and my mother was 15.  I never thought to ask them what that pandemic was like for them. This morning’s paper details some similarities with the present one.  The number of patients strained the hospital and the number of deaths - 50,000 in Canada – 50 million around the world – meant the large number could not be interred quickly enough.  Businesses were shut down.  Prime Ministers caught the flu.  The Stanley Cup was postponed.  But there were differences too.  Children and young adults were the most threatened. There was little government help – either national or provincial – and local governments had to work on their own.

 Let’s hope that some of the patterns don’t recur.  There were swings between opening up and needing to shut down again.  There was initial avoidance of the severity of the pandemic. There was resistance to closings.  Public health officials were both congratulated and denigrated.  Health workers were infected and shortages were severe.  Quack cures prevailed.  Indigenous communities were hit hardest. The disease faded away in most countries but Canada continued to have sporadic outbreaks until 2020.

 The key difference is the development of vaccines. Some were developed in 1918 at Queen’s University and by Connaught Laboratories at the University of Toronto.  What scientists did not know then was that the disease was produced by a virus.  Their vaccines did reduce the severity but vaccine development with both new understanding and speed of production were decades away.  We are so fortunate to live in the new century where over time we will overcome the effects of the current one.

 The amazing opportunities afforded by technology where we can see each other from a distance and be safely together in new ways is so taken for granted that we forget the creators of so many inventions.  I searched for a timeline and found one here

 And I was fascinated by those with impact on my own life:

My Mediaeval Manuscript

The handwritten page from a psalter hanging above my electronic piano had some precursors. Anod of course they were followed by the printing press to allow books to spread through the known universe, open up learning and change the world

My great grandfather hated the telephone

When the family in Parry Sound installed on the first in the town, he hated the idea of people intruding on his privacy. Now I text my grandchildren.

This doesn’t even show how I do it now

A Google Nest responding to my oral request to play some Christmas Carols on Combo - with a number of the best ones sounding in three different rooms on three small units.

My TV watching at home started in 1950

Now I ask my TV to head toward Prime or YouTube on the big screen with hundreds of choices in spectacular colour - or switch back to one of the many cable stations - not exactly like the small screen of the past.

Communication machines

In university, the weekly newsletter in my college was printed on a ditto machine - and I still have a purple version. Then came the fax machine in the 80e where in 1985 one board member had one - and 1986 where only one member didn’t - and no parctically no one does. I’d still like it better if my all in one printer would print in colour even though only the demo does.

From turning on a desktop in 1984

To meeting the family on Zoom in 2020. It’s been an amazing journey through it all.

As I write, I am restricted to my apartment but my life is both safe and rich.  It is so easy to forget how fortunate I am compared to most of the world during a pandemic.  Mu family came up with an innovative way to enjoy company on my balcony in cold weather – electric fleece throws. The view from there of the canopy of trees is beautiful even missing their former leaves and the lake and sky still dominate the extensive built environment.

An obituary of  famous nature writer Barry Lopez reminds me to put all this technology in perspective.  We, like the wolves he spent time with and wrote about so lovingly, are also creatures of the planet.

 The New York Times quotes the British writer Robert Macfarlane as he  put it this way in The Guardian in 2005 writing about the author. “Throughout his writings, Lopez returns to the idea that natural landscapes are capable of bestowing a grace upon those who pass through them. Certain landscape forms, in his vision, possess a spiritual correspondence. The stern curve of a mountain slope, a nest of wet stones on a beach, the bent trunk of a windblown tree: These abstract shapes can call out in us a goodness we might not have known we possessed.”

 The technological and the natural are part of our lives in the Anthropocene and both bring us grace..  Many of our journeys this season involved a much smaller carbon footprint, though they depended on electricity and that is a small benefit to the planet.  The human connections in my small world were made well – while all around us there are evidence of such connections and care that are made badly. So much will depend on our choices and sense of a sacred that we must receive with grace as we move ahead.

Family Retreat - A Literary Summary

The Setting

The beautiful Pleasant Bay House in Hillier close to several wineries in Prince Edward County - a mini-Sonoma or Niagara Peninsula converted from a farming and lake recreation area to a more sophisticated network of wineries, restaurants and inns.  Two and a half hours from metro Toronto makes it an easy trip.

The Cast of Characters

Three generations - a widowed grandmother and her two sons and their families and two dogs - but with a backstory that means it is a truly modern three generation family.

The grandmother has been a widow for 12+ years - after remarrying the same husband for the second time. The oldest son is also divorced and happily remarried as is his wife. Their children are her son, 21, and their daughter, 13. The second son's wife died more than six years ago and he is joined by his two sons 13 and 10 and his partner of several years. The oldest son's dog is 10 years old and slowing down.  The youngest son's puppy is seven+ months and speeding up.

The Theme - Family Togetherness.

The Plot:

Leaving taking was delayed by a lost wallet and after a fruitless hunt we headed for the crowded superhighway with the hope that a later phone call would reveal that it was left in the pub the night before.  It was. The boring highway was livened by NPR reruns though the cold winter landscape was beautiful. GPS didn't like the location name and insisted it was elsewhere but Google maps showed us the way.   We overshot the house and a sharp turn to come back meant a slide into a snow covered ditch - just as the wide snow plow was approaching. Everything ground to a halt but freeing it was not on. Luckily a pickup truck arrived, went back and brought the tractor to haul it out. The snow plow man didn't mind at all since he was paid by the hour, as he reminded us several times.  We sat down a little late to homemade lasagna and explored the new home environment.

The house was magic - with its glass door wood stove, copious living room windows that let in the bright sunlight of the 19 below zero cold day.  some braver scond generation souls departed to stock the already over-flowing larder while the senior and younger set settled in for an introduction to The Settlers of Catan - the perfect game for the place.  Later we sat down for tacos, newly purchased wine, a word game and another round of Catan.  The two dogs fought for attention and all the benches had to be pushed in to keep the puppy off the dining room table.  The beds soon beckoned with their duvet covers that even allowed us to depart from the slow burning fire.

After breakfast bagels, the next morning started slowly.  More eyes were focused on familiar screens than on the beautiful views - thought the grandmother and the two boys didn't participate - the first because it was a deliberate choice and the second because they were deprived of them.  New participants were introduced to Catan.  A tourtiere for lunch and another winery visit happened.  Supper consisted of an eclectic assortment of leftovers with more word games and one last round of Catan - with lots of reading of  real books by the non participants. After many ins and outs and opening of doors that let in the chill, even the dogs snoozed.

Morning breakfast was Spanish - Huevos - with Mimosas for the adults just to finish off the leftovers. Then it was time to clean up and pack.  One car departed for Toronto with the other stopping to visit with friends - but not before the family tried to capture the puppy who resisted being put on a leash..  Maybe it is still running there.  An uneventful ride merged into snow squalls as we hit the city.  

The outcome - Excellent.  I can remember family gatherings full of arguments and too much discussion and drinking, fights among siblings, too much of everything.  All the drama this time was provided by the dogs!