Sandy beach at Providence Bay, Manitoulin Island.
Tradition sees us decamp Ottawa for camping in Samuel de Champlain Provincial Park each Canada Day weekend.
And traditionally, the week before that is marked by my panicked thoughts about how I’ll survive yet another interminable sojourn–not-sleeping in a tent by night and being feasted upon by marauding mosquitoes by day.
This year I was spared because duty called. Well, a sense of duty called, but the fact that it beckoned from sunny, largely bug-less Manitoulin Island made it one I was very happy to heed.
I wanted to spend time with my mother and younger sister there. My wee sister has been wracked with health problems this year. It seems that fate has seen fit to spare her no suffering. Fate has been equally bitchy and mean spirited with my mother as well.
Traveling solo to the world’s largest fresh-water island and staying with my mom in her cottage gave me ample time to go see my little sister, Liz, at the group home in Mindemoya where she now lives. She, my mother and I would go for short walks along the boardwalk in Providence Bay and pig out on deep fried whitefish and fries afterwards at the restaurant nearby.
We’d go and pick up Liz and I’d let her ride shotgun. During the ride down sun-drenched town roads from Mindemoya to Providence Bay, from my vantage in the backseat, I’d see Liz reach for my mother’s hand.
It’s virtually their only two-way communication these days, Mom told me later. Liz seems to be losing her ability to talk.
It was a beautiful thing to see. It was like a scene from a date and I was the third wheel. Mom looked carefree with only one hand on the wheel, so she could clasp the hand of her forever young and yet fading youngest child. But my mother has never been carefree.
It was tender and sad and I cried silently in the backseat.
Good thing I was wearing sunglasses.
I’m glad I went there this weekend. It was a chance to really talk to my mother in ways I often can’t when we visit as a family. I was also very happy to have avoided camping.
I’m working on my poker face for the moment when my daughters bound through the front door and say, “Mommy! It was so fun! We wished you could have been there with us.”
To which, I’m expected to reply convincingly, “Me too, my loves. Me too.”
Tags: camping, duty, Manitoulin Island
Oh Patti.
I thought of your sister (and you, of course) this weekend, oddly enough, just wondering how long it would be before I heard some more about her. I’m sorry that sadness touched your trip, but I’m glad you got to go. And the fact that you starved a few thousand mosquitoes is just a bonus.
I wish i could have been there. i really do. I miss my little sister and my big sister very much.
xoxox
I am happy that you got to spend this time with your mom and sister – but my heart hurts for you too. xo
I get it. You need to be with your mom and Liz. Time is short. Glad you had a chance to feed your soul.
But for the record, we did miss you, it was fun, and we actually had great weather for a change. Every day hot and NO rain – hard to believe, I know. I still (stubbornly) cling to the fantasy that you will thoroughly enjoy a camping trip with us some day. If its any consolation, in comparison to what we found at Schist Lake this week, there are virtually NO bugs in Samuel de Champlain. I have never seen swarms of mosquitos, deer flies and horse flies as there were in the great Boreal Forest near Gogama. That trip, I will never subject you too (except manybe in September when a ALL bugs are DEAD)