Chapter 157
“parting is such sweet sorrow”… whenever Fantuzzi & I parted, it was a wrench. However, destined to reunite soonish, life went on. Then it didn’t. We now endure two year intervals due to stuff. I’m seeing photos from Lithuania, Estonia and Landjuweel (Netherlands) where his great friend Rudolph hosted the festival for the past 50 years. Not a week after Fantuzzi moved on after the 50th Landjuweel this August, Rudolph left his body, age 88 on the 8th day of the 8th month. An incredible artist, visionary, motivator and innovator, thousands around the world enjoy lives enriched by the creativity of Rudolph Stokvis. May he be dancing in the most amazing party of all.
Last week, my beetle died. Quite a spectacular death, revving into oblivion without benefit of a key in the ignition, belching out plumes of first grey, then white, then ominous grey succeeded by death clouds of black. I watched from the far side of the road having failed to stop its death-throws. It was having nunavit.
Huge thanks to the kind man who stopped – largely due to a slightly deranged woman wandering the road dangling a set of car keys with what looked like an imminent explosion in the background – he gave me a ride home. We both watched gobsmacked as the beetle show continued, finally wheezing into silence to await a tow truck.
Death was confirmed by experts and the hunt was on for a ‘new’ ride. My folks here at this time, stepped into my latest twist, happily cruising around on the hottest days, test-driving cars with me. I believe I found a replacement, though they are rare as hen’s teeth, it will be a change from the cucumber beetle back to the beloved ladybug. Hopefully.
Waving a fond farewell to my green adventure-car of twenty years, I also waved farewell to my parents. A painful parting as the sense of ‘maybe the last time’ invades my head in our final 48 hours together in Canada.
One month with them flies past at sonic speeds. Time we have together here and gone in a flash. We sat, explored, ate, walked, swam, laughed, loved and made many more magical memories. Watching deer children grow, admiring birds more confident daily in our harmlessness. Keeping eyes peeled each time we travel, seeing moose, elk, deer, hawk and sadly this year, also driven indoors by thick smoke.
We traversed the breadth of Calgary, marvelling at the changes from year to year, and the increasing drama of driving. Three decades back Calgary felt quaint in comparison to the frenetic press of cities across the pond. Now, population more than doubled, the entire driving experience is significantly different, more intense, less tolerant.
However, today rain. I give thanks for the rain. Plunging temperatures, less welcome. Shivering horses. Far too late to save the harvests of those worst hit by the drought, but a great fire-alleviator. After the intense heat and high winds that came through yesterday, freaking out plenty of us, the rain is an answered prayer. England 1976, a famous heatwave – drought following several years of drought. The hottest, driest year of the 20th century in England. Parliament passed “The Drought Act”. It was unheard of. My brother and I finally did a rain dance in our parched yard, next day the weather broke. Now, plunging down the scary time slope into the 21st century, everywhere is getting hot.
We are yet blessed to be here, if you’re reading these words, you are one of the rare, fortunate Foothills folk. Aren’t we lucky?
Kat Dancer
bodymudra@gmail.com
403-931-3866 (h)
+1 415 525 2630 (c)
