Author Archives: skypilot123

A Series of Not So Unfortunate Incidents..

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I’ve had a rough time lately with my C30.  First I backed into a parked car.  Then someone turned into me as I was driving my mom home and dented my back passenger quarter panel.  Then I had the whole episode in the parking lot at the Ricki’s Restaurant where someone hit the C30 and left.  There was a witness and he even gave me a license number but when I reported the number to the authorities no one had a record of the number.  I checked and double checked with the witness who was pretty sure about the number.  The insurance company told me that without the correct number I would have to pay the deductible.  That sucks. But none of these incidents resulted in any serious injury or damage where I could not drive the C30 so I was really fortunate.  It turns out that this was a series of fortunate incidents.

Still, what an interesting development.  Was the car stolen? Was the license plate stolen?  Does someone have different license plates on the front and back?  Who knows?  Was I being played by the witness? Bugs me that I have to pay the deductible.  I hope this doesn’t affect my rates.  I am still hoping to keep the C30 for a long time.

After all these incidents, I had the C30 tuned up.  New spark plugs and filters and it is running so well right now.  Purring as they say.  Still great for all the running around town that I do.  Especially now that I have take on a bigger volunteer role with the Steveston Community Centre and the Steveston Farmers Market – not to mention helping at the Judo Club as well as working on the Board at the Senior Housing Society.  I still help out with my family in a variety of ways including playing with my grandsons and it all adds  up to a full and productive life.

Loving where I live and play each day….

Hairy Interlude

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img_0042Went to get a hair cut at Steveston Barbers today.  To my surprise a former student was working there.  He remembered me and we had a great chat about life in the 90’s at Steves Elementary.  He and his friends Peter, Jacob and Brent seem to be doing well! One of the reward of working as a teacher and school administrator.  And he is into writing stuff as well.  Got to stay connected.

My go to chair from now on!  Sorry Ian.

And so…

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I still rise each day thinking about my pop.  He was a cool customer. I am glad I had the chance to live with him the past 10 years.  It seems a long time but now it seems to have passed so quickly.  Too quickly.

I remember when we first planned to have mom and pop come.  He had developed a heart problem and was having fainting spells.  His heart was not working well. Loose valves the Doctor said.  My pop and I talked in that Japanese – English hybrid language we use in Steveston.  “Sewah kakitanae,”  I don’t want to be a burden he said.  I said, “Sewa nae.  Madah narannuhn koto ipaei aru.”  Not great Japanese but what I said was, “It’s not a burden.  I still have lots to learn from you.”  “Toshi toru no koto.” How do I grow older wisely? I meant.

He smiled.  I really meant it because I knew he could show me about growing older.  I was not trying to placate him. I wanted to spend more time with him.  In the end we did spend more time together but not enough.  We did some things together but not enough.  The busyness of work and being with my own family seemed to always take up the time. But, he did show me lots – every day.

He enjoyed his activities like playing Gateball with all his friends.  He had a mah jaong group that for a time met monthly at our place.  He started his garden and loved his tree peony plants that would bloom so beautifully each year but only for a short time.  He appreciated the beauty of the plants without the blooms.  He tended them very carefully.  He wanted to help at home and would cut the lawn and take out the garbage.  He was always doing something and he always had a positive attitude.

He and I would go to many appointments and he would follow the doctors’ orders.  Eat less salt.  Exercise.  He would go for daily walks. In the beginning he would walk to Steveston and back to have coffee with friends.  At least 1/2 a mile  each way.  He would take Jasper our cocker with him.  His heart specialist called him a miracle man. He never complained and he always tried to enjoy all our family activities. I watched him closely.  Once in awhile we would sit in my parents’ ensuite  and watch TV or talk about something.  When ever we talked about something that someone did. He never said anything bad about them.  He was more curious about the context or backstory that caused the person to act the way they did.

He had two more episodes that took him to the emergency room and made it back home a little less able each time.  He could not longer walk far and I would drive him in my C30 to the coffee group during my days away from work. We had many conversations then because I would stay with him for coffee. Each year his ability to walk lessened.  It was for me a gauge of his health. In the end he could barely make it to the dinner table.

Even in the hospital he would try to stay positive. He could not breath properly and would have spells where he was struggling for air.  It was hard to watch. Still, one night my mom and I and her sister were sitting at the foot of the hospital bed and suddenly he started singing an old Japanese song and clapping.  I guess he could see the worry in us and was trying to cheer us up.  Ten days before he died he was doing Shigin for a short time – Shigin is a type of Japanese throat singing . Shigin is done on notable occasions.  Births, weddings, funerals.  I think he knew he was too weak to go on much longer. A week before he died I was trying to spoon feed him because he could not swallow properly and he did not have the energy or motivation to eat.  He could not talk by this point. He saw that my hair was standing up. He raised up his hand and patted me on the head.   Later the next day the doctor told us it was not going well and we had to let him go. We let him go into palliative care. He went into that medically induced palliative dream state and 6 days later he died.  His defective heart was stronger than we thought and would not let him go easily.

I still have the tears. I don’t let them fall. I let them crystallize in my eyes.  I see the world a little differently now.

Skypilot… looking for a place to land…

 

 

They say

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that if a person dies we keep them and cherish them in our hearts. They say that they aren’t really gone if you remember them. They are with you always. Let’s celebrate their lives.

BS.

I walk into my father’s home. He isn’t there. I walk into his bedroom he isn’t there. I sit down to have a meal with him. He isn’t there. I don’t hear his voice. He doesn’t give me advice. He can’t tell me more of his stories. He’s not here anymore. I just feel lonely and sad.

What is real is that I’m sad. Life is lonely. I miss him. That’s what is real. I don’t want rationalizations. Platitudes. He’s dead and I’m sad.

And what’s more, I want to feel sad and lonely. He was important. He mattered. The tears mean something. Living and dying is part of the story. His story. I’ve lost others too that made me feel empty and a deep sadness. It means I have the human capacity to connect and love.  They were important to me. Sadness is part of life.

And I have regrets too. I want to talk with pop one more time. I want one more chance. Another day. I want to take him in my C30 and take him on a road trip or take him to his morning coffee group. One more chance to ask him about life and death and everything in between.

What is hard is trying so hard not to feel the sadness and emptiness and loneliness. I can’t do it. No use avoiding it. I can’t avoid it. I accept it as part of the unfathomable part of my existence. I embrace the sadness and emptiness and accept my father’s death. In the loss and emptiness I can feel his love and my capacity to care and remember the times when I felt loved and comforted.

Rambling on…  probably going to be rambling for awhile…

Skypilot123…………………  Feb. 24th, 2016

Hwy 9 and Hospital Visit

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Been thinking a lot about driving Hwy 9 in Washington State. A little off the beaten track. But takes you to the road up to Mt. Baker. Past the Indian Casino, Deming, Concrete, Acme,  Sedro-Wooley. Cool names. South to the Blue Mountain Grill and a beautiful view of the Three Sisters peaks. A nice lunch there would be perfect.

Nurse has come to take pop’s blood pressure. Sleeping too soundly to rouse him. Confused. Tries to rip off the BP sleeve. Will try again later. But have to get more fluids and food into him today.

I end up in Burlington and the Skagit Valley. Such a beautiful area. Have taken this route a few time over the last 30 years. 9 hasn’t changed too much but Burlington has. Major big box stores. Costco. Walmart. I have taken advantage of shopping in the area. 

Can’t rouse Pop yet. Time to get some breakfast. Cafeteria Oatmeal is good. Time for every purpose under heaven. My time to look after pop. Last night a few times I saw the eyes and smile of my old pop. My pop of the past. The one that raised me and roused me from my sleepy childhood into adulthood. Still remember when I got my first teaching job, he told me that his best teacher was one that shared some personal stories with the class. Making a connection. Still true to this day. We are still taking about personalized curriculums. We are just beginning the conversation about the importance of stories and narrative analysis in developing strong relationships for teaching.

I often  stop in the Skagit Valley on my way to Seattle or Widbey Island. See the tulip farms. Stay at the new casino hotel that over looks the mouth of the Skagit when offered cheap rooms. beautiful. Even with the huge refinery in the distance to the east in Anacortez. Then I like to drive back on the Chuckanut along the coast to Bellingham. The C30 would be perfect for it.

Hospital cafeteria just opening. Lights coming on. Pop sleeping. Time to get some oatmeal. Again.

To the Hospital and Back

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The C30 has been a haven this week. Pop is back in the hospital with breathing issues. Been going back and forth in the C30 three, four, five times a day. So hard to watch someone you admire and love struggling, doubled over, eking out small breaths. I usually leave after his breathing has returned to some regular pattern. Sometimes the worry and concern about him and all my other projects can overwhelm me.

But, then I jump in the C30. Put on my favorite tunes or listen to the radio or The CBC comedy program and imagine I am on a great road trip. The Pacific coast. The Crowsnest Hwy. In the imagining I can bring myself to reality. – That life carries on in the suffering and pain. – That I don’t have to dwell in that story all day long. I’ll Be Okay.

Just one of my narrative tactics so I can be the person I want to be for my family and friends when I get home or to the hospital.

Fender Bender / Mind Bender in my C30!

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IMG_0370Oh no!  I backed my C30 into a Maroon Nissan Sentra on Monday night in Steveston.

Steveston still has a simple town plan. There is still a rural feel to the township area. A rectangular grid of streets and homes.  No concrete side walks.  Homes have a driveway and a uneven grass boulevard fronting the street. Many places still have a ditch in front to help remove rainwater.  There are homes from the 1930’s and even earlier.  However, people have discovered the peaceful beauty and charm of Steveston.  Many large homes have been built. Some people have built large compound – like homes.  Many young families can no longer afford to live in Steveston.

OIMG_1181n Monday night I was looking for a friend’s home on Garry Street.  I was confused that I could not find the home. I drove into a driveway to get my bearings. Realized I was on Georgia Street. One street over.  So I backed out.  Looked back. Turned my head to go forwards.  Rolled back a little more and then I felt and heard that crunching, crinkling noise that auto plastics and metals make when smooshing together.  My first thought was: “Oh no.”

IMG_1196The car was parked part way on the street.  The streets in Steveston do not have a sidewalk just a grassy edge. So many people park partway on the grassy boulevard and partway on the road.  I should have been more careful. I stopped in the driveway in front of the car.  Inspected the damage.  There were some scratches on the C30 and a dent on the front fender of the older model Nissan.

IMG_1195I was upset for the moment thinking about the problem I had just caused myself. Now I would have to contact the person.  Contact the insurance companies.  Yes, companies.  In BC you have mandatory coverage with ICBC and you can have comprehensive coverage with a private company which can save a few dollars. I had gone this route.

Then, I also thought about the problem I had caused the other person as well. This person would also have to go through all this as well.

IMG_1193I went to the door and rang up.  No one came.  I waited a few minutes.  Went back to my car and looked for some paper and a pen.  Couldn’t find any.  Decided to go to my friend’s place and get some there.

Found my friend’s place on Garry. Spent an hour or so talking and having a holiday drink with staff from Hamilton Elementary. I had some laughs and good moments catching up with everyone.  A great group of people.  I miss working with them. Somehow we always end up talking about the students and how they are doing.  I guess this is to be expected whenever a group of folks working in schools get together.

We left to go to another friend’s place. I remembered to ask for a paper and pen, wrote down my phone number and asked for a call.

I drove back to Georgia Street  to leave my number.  Still no one home.  I went to a neighbour to make sure that the car in fact belonged to the first home.  He did not seem to know the people well but was sure the car belonged to some one staying there. I went back to the first home and left my note in the mailbox and went on to my next destination.  More staff were there and we talked and remembered and laughed until well past the midnight hour.

I drove home sheepishly as I was so late and had a dent in the car and I had to explain the story to Carol. “Could have texted me earlier.” “Sorry, I should have.” But, we never concern ourselves too much about things like this and we fell asleep.

Tuesday, I waited for a call as Carol and I went about some errands.  No call.  I visited the home again.  Two cars there now.  I rang the door bell.  Still no answer.  I thought maybe the person worked on shift in the evening and was trying to sleep. So I left.  I went about my daily and evening routines.

Wednesday, I was at Lowe’s buying a digital smoke and CO2 detector.  I was also checking out toilets. Richmond is offering a rebate to anyone replacing old toilets with low water volume toilets. I wanted to take advantage of this program. While I was in the toilet aisle I got a call. It was from an area code out of the area.  I took the call.  It was the person who owned the car. The person was visiting from Victoria and would be home most of the day.  I made arrangements to see him in the afternoon.

I drove to Georgia Street again.  Rang up and a young man answered the door.  I don’t remember the hellos much but I do remember the young man suddenly asking:

“Mr. Sakai?”
“It’s Max from Steves.”

Max was one of my former students.  It took a moment but I recognized him.  His features were of a young man but the sparkle in his eyes and the broad smile were the same as I remember over 15 years ago.  I probably would not have noticed this without having this lingering moment to make the connection. Many memories flooded back into my mind and body.  Max always had a special smile and way of making the people around him feel better.  He was one of the people that made my years as teacher and principal at Steves School a rewarding one.

He says to me, ” I wouldn’t even get this fixed except I was planning on selling it soon.”
“I’m glad you can still drive it.”
“Yes, at first I couldn’t open the door but I got a crowbar and bent out some of the dent and was able to open the door.”
“I guess we should trade some information.”
“I don’t know what information I need.”
“Let’s start with the insurance and registration numbers.”

Max goes into get paper and pen and Dad comes out.
He recognizes me and says: “Mr. Sakai. I’m not surprised that you would leave your number. This has happened here a few times and people just leave.”

What a nice comment. “I couldn’t leave the person having to deal with the insurance company and having to pay the deductible. I’m sorry about the inconvenience.”

We finish trading information and I find out that Max is working in Victoria as a recreation leader at a senior centre and is applying to university for other studies. We chat a little longer and off we both go. I leave thinking how glad I was to see Max again.

I dutifully make my reports to both insurance companies and make arrangements for the repair of the C30.

I text Max to let him know that I have made my report and wish him a happy new year.  He replies in kind. I am glad to have bumped into him and made the connection and off we both go driving into the new year…

Alan

Driving my Pop to Appointments in my C30 and a New Years Wish for everyone.

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A New Years Eve thought and ask.

I have found that one of the things I do a lot of now is drive my Pop to his medical appointments. He likes riding in my C30 because it makes him feel young like he’s in a sports car. He is going to be ninety-one this coming year. He is frail but strong. He is slower but still thoughtful.

He says it is quieter in my C30 than their car which mom still drives around and he can hear me better sitting in my car. We talk in a language all our own. Part English, part Japanese, part nodding and not hearing, part letting the other person sit in the patience of not really hearing the other person but understanding anyways. Kind of seeing ones self as the other and not worrying about bothering with the real words so much. It is a relationship we have developed over many years.

My Pop loves Canada. Pop is 90 now and is hard of hearing and has some trouble walking. He has an enlarged heart and his heart specialist says he is a miracle because his heart is only working at 30% efficiency. But, it is his team of medical support that has created this miracle. He goes to his doctor who is of Chinese descent. He goes to his Respiratory specialist who is of South Asian descent. His Urologist was from England but retired. He checks in now with a young female doctor born in Canada. His heart specialist is of Jewish descent. His pharmacists are a team of women at the local supermarket of Asian origin and they take care to make sure he has the right meds. His hearing technician is of Asian descent and she always takes time to talk with him in Japanese. Pop likes this. Our neighbours are Caucasian Canadians of many years and they always check in with us when they see Pop walking. His great grandkids are of mixed decent and bring him lots of joy and one carries his name. Little Hayao he calls him. With all this help and support and love, I am sure my mom and pop will make it well into the 90s.
I kid him and say he has the United Nations of medical support. He says this is one of the reasons he loves Canada. People from around the world are here helping each other. Only in Canada, he says. I say in Richmond for sure. Despite all the killing and wars around the world it is stories like this that give me hope that one day we can all learn to live together peacefully and help each other enjoy our short time on this Earth.

I keep thinking that if we all learned that we are living out stories that we have created for ourselves and not to be so judgemental of others we would have a lot more peace on this Earth. But, that is a difficult ask in many troubled parts of this world.

So, on this eve of a New Year I wish for peace and love for everyone I know and those I have yet to know.

Alan