The Mountains, my Sweetie and Me

Moraine Lake

   I recently returned from the Rocky Mountains. Each time I am there and then need to return to Ontario I am reminded of the visceral hold they seem to have on me.
   I was a young boy when I first started visiting the Rockies, back in the late fifties to early sixties. On an almost yearly basis we made the trek from Youngstown, Ohio or Edmonton or North Vancouver to visit my grandparents who lived on the Sunshine Coast of B.C. in a little town called Gibsons.
   What I was familiar with when I wasn't in the mountains was either prairie or city. The mountains, then, became a total place of wonderment for me when I was in them the first time. It might have been the way they towered over us. It might have been the bears and the deer and the mountain goats. It could have been the cascading waterfalls or the thundering rapids. It could possibly have been the air.

Where many of my relatives need to be.

   I am sure that all of this, combined with the fact that we were headed for Gibsons at the end of it all, made these times of our lives so memorable.
   My feeling as I travel through them as an adult has changed only little. There are still wondrous things to see and the fact that it is not the first time I am seeing them makes little difference. Not even the adult responsibilities of finding hotels, gas stations and highways provide a damper--they just seem to add to the adventure.
   My ancestors were true pioneers in these same Rocky mountains a hundred and sixty years ago--my great-great grandfather arrived in the Fraser valley looking for gold way back when and eventually settled in the area that eventually took his name-Agassiz, B.C. I often wonder if this in any way contributes to my strong sense of belonging when I am in the mountains.
   "Belonging" really is the feeling I get when I am there and it is very visceral and difficult to ignore. I have had this kind of feeling once before--when I realized I was in love with the woman who is now my wife.
   Over a period of time several years ago I realized that Doralyn's presence near or around me had started to evoke a strong and undeniable sense of "belonging" as well. Then, at some point, the feeling that somehow or other we were supposed to be together simply became too strong to ignore and this then led us to where we are now. Much had to happen before we arrived here, though, many painful things had to be survived by many people. In some sense, mountains had to be moved. Mountains were moved, however, and nothing has transpired since to convince me this didn't need to happen.
   So here's a little bit of the dilemma that occurred to me while in the Rockies and then again on the west coast--I feel certain that this is where I am supposed to be so why not be there? If I was willing to go to great lengths to be with Doralyn then why not the same with Western Canada?


Someone I'm supposed to be with, somewhere I'm supposed to be

   Doralyn herself has admitted that the West would be a wonderful place to live. We both can understand why a person might go west for a visit and then just...stay there.
   We are faced, however, with the conundrum I think many Canadians must deal with--balancing where they think they would like to be with where all their loved ones are. This tears at many of us.
   We ran into many "transplanted" Easterners when we were out there. Some preferred the climate and as many simply enjoyed the lifestyle. Doralyn and I both picked up on this undercurrent of creativity which seems so prevalent out there. It was the type of undercurrent which made you want to stick around and dip your feet into it, maybe even drown in it. This was particularly true in Gibsons and then on up the Sunshine Coast. The pace seemed so much slower and, well, hard not to appreciate.
   Still, there is that aforementioned dilemma. To be where we would like to be would mean being thousands of miles away from our loved ones and family members. I saw this predicament wear away at my Dad and Jean, after they had settled on the coast. Eventually, the distance between them and their family brought them back east. And, in the long run, this was probably a better place for them to be as they aged and then became ill. So much more was facilitated for them, being surrounded by family, here.
   Realistically, here is probably where we need and have to be. At the same time, though, the mountains will not disappear in any of our lifetimes and will be there for us, someday, waiting.