It's Time To Celebrate! - Post No. 21

In just a few weeks Janet and I will mark 50 years of marriage. We celebrate many things - births and birthdays, graduations, marriages and lives lived by those who have passed - but anniversaries are the fainter stars in the constellation of celebrations. The years accumulate slowly, without much fanfare, until suddenly, it seems, you have accumulated many of them, many more than you could have imagined when the count began. We have sheltered a lot of different things under the umbrella of this particular celebration - travel, parties, things we put off until we were old enough and tall enough to get on all the rides.

In the northern reaches of the Strait of Georgia, in the Discovery Islands off the east coast of Vancouver Island not too far from Campbell River is Sonora Island, home to about 60 people and one rather spiffy resort. What started out as a fishing lodge has evolved to a more elegant sort of wilderness lodge. You can still fish for salmon, but you can also soak in the mineral pools, be pampered in the spa, go hiking (on foot or from a helicopter), view wildlife or, if you prefer, play tennis, pickleball, canoe, kayak or paddle board. How they are able to offer all of this in a place that is accessible only by boat or air is a wonder that is at least partly answered when you review your bill at checkout.

I mention this because this is where we went to continue our months' long anniversary celebration, with our children and their spouses and our grandchildren and 4 of our oldest friends. They are not our oldest friends because of their age - that designation belongs to other friends much older than them. They are called this because they have been friends for virtually the entire 50 years, and in one case (Bob), since high school.

Getting our party of 13 to the island required serious planning and the cooperation of BC Ferries in getting most of us to Vancouver Island, which cooperation can never be assumed or taken for granted. We had never been that far north on Vancouver Island before and our route took us past Bowser, BC. Bowser is a seaside town that is the home of the Salish Sea Market, a small gallery in that specializes in West Coast Art. Janet has long been a follower and online customer.

We arrived at lunchtime, and Blair, Kristine and I went into a roadside cafe nearby to see if it would be suitable for lunch. Janet had jumped from the car as it slowed and went directly into the Market, her need to finally see the displayed art with her own eyes trumping her need for food or restroom facilities. A few minutes later Blair gently suggested that I might want to go and see what she was up to, which I did after ordering our lunch.

Just inside the gallery, on a stand, was a picture of Janet and me taken on our wedding day and another more recent photo, with a message of congratulations and a gift certificate. You can imagine our confusion: how had all this come to be found in a place that we had never been to, that didn't know we were coming and that is in a corner of Canada and Vancouver Island that can only be described as "remote?" Surprising and confusing us is not as hard as it once was, but we were truly, throughly surprised. And confused. After some investigation we pieced it all together: we had made our hope to stop at the gallery known to Sean and Laura and Blair and Kristine, and armed with that bit of information they collected old photos, produced the placard, and Sean and Laura and their kids drove to Bowser ahead of us, set up the display having previously cleared it with the manager, and then disappeared, leaving it to Blair and Kristine to ensure that we eventually got in the door. It was a wonderful start to a memorable weekend.

Over the next 4 days we fished, frequented the spa, and saw all of the wildlife that this part of the world is known for: humpback whales, orcas, harbour seals, bears, deer and bald eagles, so many bald eagles - as Alastair noted, they are as plentiful as seagulls in the Victoria harbour. And we enjoyed excellent food, including the salmon I caught on the second day of our trip.

But mostly we visited and our grandchildren enjoyed the undivided attention of their grandparents and 2 pairs of backup grandparents, the Wallis's and the Grants, who were critically important in the attraction-rich environment of the resort. We hiked, took turns in the canoe and Bob and Saralee manned the trout pond and tennis court, and Alastair the golf simulator, Saralee and Wendy the pool table and shuffleboard table. 3 grandchildren managed over 4 days to exhaust 6 experienced, highly trained and fit grandparents. This is not to say that their parents and aunt and uncle didn't take their turns, but put Henry, Claire and Charlie in a setting like that and it truly takes the whole damn village to raise them.

Blair and Sean have known Alastair and Wendy and Bob and Saralee their entire lives. Our last meal at the resort was our chance to try to explain to our grandchildren how these cherished friendships had begun, and why they are so important to us these many years later, our shared memories and passions. We all tried, but words are inadequate for this purpose. Our lives are rich with friendships like these ones.

A quote from a Welsh composer named Joseph Parry (d. 1903) will wrap this up:

Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.

How lucky we are. I have assembled a pictorial essay of these past 50 years, and a link to it will be published here as soon as I've figured out how to safely post it. Stay tuned.