In hindsight, everything moved very fast. However, in the moment, it seemed that the snails in my burgeoning Springtime garden were speeding by me as if I was standing still. Things were happening, certainly, but now, with the end in sight, my anxiety was building to get everything in immediate order and to leave. There were sleepless nights to be sure. There had only been a couple of viewings of my house and with all the financials pending, I was getting frightened it wouldn’t come together as it had in my vision. But Dave, my real estate agent, was ever optimistic, so I just went with that. Packing was well under way but trying to get a moving company secured was incredibly complicated – one thing depended on another which depended on another, etc. and that drove me nuts! I lowered the asking price a little bit to move things along, and with Sam generously maintaining most of my salary in Victoria even though I would be in “retirement”, the price reduction wouldn’t cause any problems.
Another thing I had done was to contact the UVic Fine Arts Department and offer my services as a Theatre coach … on a voluntary basis. The chair of Department was back to me almost immediately to let me know she’d passed along my resume to the Theatre and Music Department Heads and within a few hours of the initial posting, the Theatre Head, Warwick Dobson, wrote back requesting I come in and see him as soon as I had settled in Victoria! Then there was a post from Michael Shamata asking when I was getting into town. So, all those prospects calmed me down a little.
Within a week of each other, both Mom’s place and mine were sold! I was over the moon. It was touch-and-go for a bit on the day a couple, who had already viewed the house twice, came back with their college-aged kids to see it again. It had been a last minute request, so I had to vacate the premises. I drove around the Lindenwoods Circle (seven minutes per circuit) four times, but they were still in the house at the end of my fourth pass. Too anxious to go around again, I parked down the street within eye-shot of my front door. I could tell the moment they walked out with Dave, all smiles and shaking hands, that they had signed the offer! I fogged up the windshield with my huge sigh of relief, overjoyed and just a little weepy. It was done!
I zapped back out to Victoria. Ji, the bank manager was happy that everything had worked out so well, but also glad, I think, to finally have us out of his hair. The mortgages Mom and I were carrying were small, and we headed down to the condos for me to take measurements for furniture and to think about paint colours. The daffodils were coming up and the cherry blossoms were already out making the city look bright and welcoming. My desire to get there was almost overwhelming. Got Mom packed up and arrangements had been made for her move the day after I left for home. Her phone had already been turned off, so I would be relying on Sharone, Mom’s real estate agent, to keep me informed of how things were going. Once back in Winnipeg, moving details took up the days along with a bunch of payrolls. Fortunately, most of the shows that were on the road were closing at exactly the same time I would be driving out to Victoria, so getting the office into boxes was the last thing on the list.
I had decided to do a Garage Sale as part of the huge “Annual Lindenwoods Garage Sale Day”. I had way too much stuff to fit in the condo and thought I might make a few bucks and get rid of a few things at the same time. But I’d misread the Annual Sale date and had prepared my Sale for the week-end before the Big One! I could have waited the week, but thought getting the jump might be to my advantage. I dashed about the neighbourhood a few days prior to my now “Advance Sale” and put up signs hoping that folks would turn up. The night before, I parked the car on the street and, after putting price tags on most of the items, set up the rented folding tables inside the garage loaded with things that were small-ish and easily transportable, leaving bigger pieces in the house so folks could see them “in situ”. And there was a LOT of stuff. Start time was 10:00AM. When we (me, Teresa and her sister Michele) opened the garage doors at 9:45 there were people sitting on my front lawn, on the lawn across the street, lined up on the driveway and sitting in cars parked down the block!. I was amazed! We had to hold them back as we moved the tables onto the driveway. Then it was just a matter of getting out of the way as they rushed into the garage and started rifling through my stuff. I had wondered how I was going to feel seeing strangers picking at my things and asking me “will you go lower?”. Strangely, I’d divorced myself emotionally from the experience as soon as the garage door went up, and, aside from some pushy individuals who wanted to pay “one dollah” for everything, no matter what was on the price tag, the day was a huge success. The following weekend was even better. We knew what to expect. Teresa and Michele had even brought over some things of their own to sell. In all, I think I made just over twelve hundred dollars for the coffers. The house was now looking bare. Some rooms had even developed echoes.
I flew back out to Victoria one last time before the move just to assure Mom that I was still coming, and got the final papers and condo keys in hand. I met with my painter, Merlin (!), to discuss the wall colours I’d angsted over for weeks, and he told me everything would be taken care of … and much too expensive. He was meticulous in his attention to details I’d not even thought about, and that set my mind at ease about the eventual results. I dealt with the internet, phone and TV cable installations, the office phone line (separate from my own), the additional phone outlets, the TV wall bracket installation, coordinated the installation timeline (after the painting) for the new (and, once more, much too expensive) curtains for all the windows, liaised between the Victoria and Winnipeg banks over and over again, walked the area around my new home to get another lay of the land and spent some time sitting on the beach thinking about where I was and calming down before heading back East … for the last time.
Debbie (Maslowsky) had started working at the office and was easily getting a hand on all the information I was desperately cramming into her. I had arranged another phone line to connect directly to me in Victoria, so I would always be a button-push away in case of any questions. I would still be doing the payrolls for an indeterminate amount of time, but she would be dealing with everything else. I was over the moon that she had agreed to take the position. Smart, quick, incredibly friendly and nothing fazed her! I couldn’t have felt more confident with her at the wheel. This would be a long phase-out process for me and Sam. He knew it and, reluctantly, I knew it. A complete and utter cut-off would not have been good for the company, or for Sam’s soul. That was never spoken of. Sam always kept feelings close to his chest and my leaving, despite the fact that we’d been easing into it for a very long time, was a hard thing for him. Always professional, we were very pragmatic when it came to how we ran and related to each other in the business. But there was the other side of the coin … the “unspoken”. It was just a “sense” of each other more than anything else. We knew how to tell each other things and how to respond to situations and circumstances with each other. The fact that I was “still on board” was, I think, a leave-taking he was able to deal with, knowing full well that I would still be just a phone call away. But that wasn’t quite the way it worked out.
The packing continued all the way to the end. There was more divesting as I made some hard decisions about whether or not I really needed what I was putting into each box, and gradually, it was down to the final days. There were some kiss-off brunches and final coffees with folks who wanted some quiet time with me. Robbie had organized what had started out to be a surprise going-away party for me and Morgan, but we let the “surprise” part go when he asked me what date was best for us. It was held in the Warehouse Theatre Lobby and, while the invitation read “Potluck”, Teresa and Michele and Heather had cooked and baked up a storm to give the party an anchor and sense of festivity. There were lots of cards and love and some speeches that just about did me in, including some precious words from Robbie. I spoke a bit about living in the moment despite challenges presented to us, about having each other for support and to hang on to. It had been only a few days earlier that dear friend Olaf, who was there, had been diagnosed with cancer, and I was talking to him specifically. It was a tearful moment.
The final day, all that remained was to load the Jeep with all the office stuff I would need as soon as I landed in Victoria, the computer set-up, and to make some sandwiches for the road – tuna salad to be specific. Teresa was bringing some ham and cheese sandwiches that Erik had made for us. It would cut down on time stopping at restaurants along the way. The movers arrived at 8:30am and, over the next four hours, loaded out my house. I had arranged a deep clean by my long-time cleaning ladies after my departure, so I knew the house would be immaculate when the new owners walked in.
At 1:30, I closed the front door, locked from the inside, and drove down to pick up T. We hit the road at 2:30, celebrating with a couple of sandwiches and Diet Pepsi in our seats … and that was the end of my life in Winnipeg. Simple as that. No people lined Portage Avenue waving goodbye, no exit music, no to-do, just an uneventful leaving behind of 28 years of a full and productive existence in this great city. As we got further and further away, I could feel the ties breaking, quietly, gently, and my mind was set forward. There were no regrets as each mile took me further into a new life, and a calm settled around my car, a small, safe bubble which, for the moment, contained all my excitement and anticipation.
The drive to the coast was wonderful! The Jeep handled extremely well and, while it took me a while to push it to the speeds Teresa kept insisting were a part of highway driving, I managed to quickly get comfortable whizzing along at 110 clicks per hour. In fact, approaching small towns along the way and having to slow down to 50 or 60 kpm made it feel like we were standing still. The first night was at a Holiday Inn on the Highway just outside Regina that allowed dogs (a $200.00 deposit!), and we were off at first light the following morning with some tuna fish salad sandwiches for breakfast. The plan had been for Morg to sit with T. from time to time, but that never happened. His position in the car had aways been lying in my left arm and that’s where he stayed no matter how we tried to get him over to Teresa’s lap. By mid-afternoon we had made it to Calgary but decided to push on a bit further to Golden, or “Blondie” as T. took to calling it, and were there by early evening. We were definitely in the mountains now and getting up to take Morgan out for a pee at 6:30 the next morning, I was met by the smell of cold, fresh mountain air and the glorious sun rising on the huge range that backed on to the motel. We took some breakfast at a café beside the motel, deciding to save the remaining sandwiches for later in the day. Got to Revelstoke after a drive through the incredible scenery in Banff National Park and some slightly harrowing mountain passes. We made a gas stop and decided to finish off those sandwiches … only there were no sandwiches. They had just disappeared. We took the back of the car apart looking for them. We thought that if they were still somewhere in the car, like down a wheel well or something, they’d eventually start to smell. They never did! We still talk about that as “the great sandwich mystery”. Made the 3:00 ferry and were on the Island ninety minutes later. Morgan hadn’t liked the ferry and all the noise. We were required to stay on the car deck because dogs weren’t allowed up stairs and he shivered in my arms for most of that journey. He was happy to get back into the car … and my left arm.
Mom was overjoyed to see us. We had actually arrived a day early because we’d pushed the driving. Teresa, being a particular friend, was a bonus for Mom. And I was eager to see what my condo looked like. The colours were glorious. The white crown molding and base boards set off the depth and intensity of the deep blue, green and dark beige walls and I couldn’t wait for the furniture to arrive and to get everything organized. We’d brought inflatable beds so started living in the space right away.
And at this point, I find myself stopping in real time for a moment, realizing that I have departed drastically from the focus of these posts. Over the years, I’ve rarely delved into my non-professional life. There have been a few times when the personal and private have become unavoidably enmeshed, but, at this point in the story, there are no on-stage/off-stage stories to tell. I think I realized this at the time as I was still making daily Journal entries, but this Blog was nowhere in my mind, thus my observations and commentary were for my eyes only. So, essentially, I’m apologizing for going off-track for a bit. Day-to-day life was all I had for a while. Unpacking the house after the moving van arrived and the excitement of setting everything up took a while, and getting used to being a few steps away from Mom and her requirements was a new part of my life. Teresa had left and my last tie to Winnipeg was gone. And for a bit there was a little … homesickness, if that’s what I can call it. Adjusting completely after almost three decades of another place and circumstances doesn’t happen with any speed. Oh, perhaps it does on the surface, on the get-through-the-day veneer. But inside there are constant reminders of the differences and the new way of having to do things and all the “regular” stuff that isn’t there anymore. It was nothing I couldn’t handle but that adjustment would touch me when I least expected it.
Out of necessity, the office was set up first. I was a bit behind because the moving van was a day late arriving, so getting everything connected and functioning was ground zero. Needless to say, I couldn’t work in a messy space, so as the computers were hooked up, the office was put into perfect shape as well. With the morning light streaming in on my first full day “at work”, all was well. But the rest of my new home still needed a lot of attention. I needed to settle in to a routine, nothing strenuous or too demanding. The phones and internet functioned just as they had in Winnipeg and getting calls transferred from the Main Office worked a charm. I’d done all of the budgets for pending shows before I left so converting them into the weekly payroll format was a simple transition. The days went well. With the two hour time difference, I was a bit behind the rest of the country, but folks got used to not calling before 11:00am their time and my day ended mid-afternoon. I could get used to this!
Mom had also settled into having me next door to her. When we weren’t checking out another restaurant on our “places-to-eat-at” list, I’d make dinner each night and we’d sit at the kitchen table in front of the window with Douglas Street only feet away. The condo was on the first floor, raised above street level, so we’d smile and wave at folks going by while we ate. We also began going on day trips as something to do for Mom and to get the lay of the land further afield for me. Those were great treks, unplanned for the most part and just another way to be together with no pressure or timetables bearing down on me. We re-established our connection and took on roles, oddly reversed from what they once were – I was the parent, Mom the child. It was somewhat of a struggle from time to time to keep the meds schedule in order as time seemed to mean little to her. But we managed and, while patience had never been my strongest suit, I altered my mindset on a number of levels, adapted, and we got on just fine.
I finally spent some rewarding time with Michael Shamata. I’d not seen him since our long-ago time doing “Cabaret” in London at the Grand Theatre and at MTC in Winnipeg, and it was great to catch up. Michael gave me the lay of the land in Victoria and it was helpful to know what worked and what didn’t in this city. As I thought would be the case, there was nothing for me in the upcoming season but making that connection was important. I also touched base with Brian Richmond at Blue Bridge Rep who was very generous in offering me ‘Lord Capulet’ in a UVic Phoenix Theatre production of “R&J” later in the Fall, but I had a conflict. That offer was a good sign. Another very profitable meeting was with Warwick Dobson, head of the Theatre Department at UVic. After a wonderful chat and getting to know each other, he confirmed a Spring “Trial Workshop” for my proposed Musical Theatre Performance Class the following summer. There had been such a class listed in the Department catalogue for years, but it had been designated as “non active” since there had never been anyone to teach it. Could this be more perfect? There would be details to iron out, but since the class wouldn’t happen until May, there was a lot of time to learn how the University system formally worked and to prepare the course. And the London Dickens House engagement was also confirmed – three performances just before Christmas as a part of a Fundraiser for the Dicken Trust – just before three more performances in back at Dalnavert in Winnipeg. Mom would come with me to London (that would be interesting) and having something for her to look forward to always kept conversations going if only because each time was like the first for her. I found myself taking great joy in telling her about going to London each time and watching her get excited about this “new” prospect. So the down-the-road picture was somewhat active, nothing too strenuous or anxiety-ridden.
I was supremely happy here. I still had a work ethic in my physical being that I couldn’t shake. I still awoke at 7:10am, took Morg out for the first pee, had coffee, showered, took Morg out for the longer walk and then settled in at the computer. All automatic. I never felt guilty about doing errands during the day or sitting down at the ocean with Morg for an hour just watching the water and the people walking by. The Winnipeg Office was doing alright. Sam was fully involved in a new production called “Come Fly With Me”, a Frank Sinatra Tribute being directed by Twyla Tharp. They’d become great friends, and Sam’s contributions had now extended into the creative evolution of the show. Debbie was on full time but began to feel somewhat overwhelmed by some personal situations happening in her life. Sam and I had conversations deciding that we could deal with whatever we had to now that I was settled out here.
And then … Sam died.