On the third day, they had to walk the seawall twice. There were excruciating times, like at Siwash Rock where Mick had asked her if she still loved him, and how he’d let out a deep sigh of relief after she said yes. Or at the pool by English Bay where she’d learned that he too, had been lonely in their marriage.
When they got back to the truck, Mick went to open her door for her, but stopped. He stood real close and said, “We’ve both made mistakes, I know that now. This isn’t all your fault, I’m also responsible for the state of our marriage.” His voice broke on the last words and tears streamed down his cheeks. Tilly reached out and pulled him in tight to her body. He wrapped his arms around her and burrowed his face in her neck. Holding each other up, they released their shared pain.
The last day of their walk the sun was bright, the tide was high and the water glistened. They teased each other playfully and the conversation flowed with ease. They no longer had to keep track of the time. They were talking about what they needed from each other when Mick suddenly stopped. “Tilly, turn around.” She did and was about to keep talking, but the look on her husband’s face caused her to pause.
“You know what I really miss?” he asked.
She hardly moved her head from side to side, her chest tightening.
His eyes darted back and forth between hers and then slowly swept down her body. Mick stepped toward her. He lifted his hands and cradled her face. Tilly trembled, and he pulled her in for a long kiss. Tilly’s arms instinctively wrapped around him, pulling him even closer. After a few minutes, their lips separated, but their bodies remained as one. Both were breathless, their eyes remained closed, holding the moment in time. Mick whispered, “I miss kissing my wife.”
Their eyes connected.
The chasm had just been crossed.
Tilly tilted her head. “Maybe you should kiss her some more then.” She raised her eyebrows teasingly. “You know, make up for lost time.”
That’s just what Mick did.
56
So Much Has Changed
THEIR FIRST STITCH ’n bitch meeting back in the basement of the community hall was awkward. Each of them had placed their projects on the table, but no one began to work. Instead they looked around at each other, uncertain of how to proceed now that so much had changed—within each of them and within their group.
Surprisingly, it was Rose who spoke up and stated what everyone was feeling. “I don’t want to meet here anymore.” She looked around the gray walls of the basement. Even though art had been put up, and the community had tried to make it feel welcoming, it reminded her of Residential School.
Rose bowed her head, and her shoulders began to shake. Lucy moved her chair closer and put her arm around Rose, while the other women stared, dumbfounded. They’d never seen Rose like this before.
After a few moments, Rose took in a sharp breath and then squeaked out, “Sorry.”
Mabel shook her head from side to side. “There’s no need to be sorry. Tears are medicine, remember?”
Rose began to share, “It’s just that ever since our trip, I feel like I’ve been cracked wide open and comin’ in here tonight,” she paused while a few more tears fell, “there’s just too many memories. The smell, the door handles, the floor…everythin’ reminds me of the hurt and I don’t wanna be reminded of the hurt.” Rose inhaled deeply. “That’s what I realized on our trip. I’ve been livin’ in the hurt and I don’t wanna live there anymore.”
They sat in silence. Eventually Mabel spoke up, “Just because this is where we’ve always met, doesn’t mean it’s where we have to meet.”
The women had never considered this before.
Their trip had affected each of them differently, but they all felt the need to speak up for themselves. They each felt more inspired to decide what they wanted for the rest of their lives, however long or short that might be.
***
The next week they began meeting at Rose’s house. She and Poncho had a huge, round kitchen table. It had been a gift to Poncho from his favorite Chinese restaurant in town. Whenever he was running errands, which was often, he’d stop in and have the smorgasbord. A few years ago, when the restaurant was closing, they gave Poncho his table. It was perfect for when the kids and grandkids came over because they could easily squeeze everyone around it. The table even had a Lazy Susan in the middle. Not only was it perfect for family meals, but now it was also perfect for Stitch ’n Bitch. Besides, Rose had decided she wanted to find more ways to fill their house and her life with love, so having the ladies over once a week was just the thing to help with that.
Lucy teased, “Now that we’re sittin’ in a circle an’ I can see you all, I think I like the ol’ square table better.”
Sarah
Sarah spent a week at Vancouver General Hospital. Her family traveled down to be with her and between her family, Annie, and Tilly, Sarah was never alone. Even if her family had not been there, Sarah wouldn’t have been alone. The young woman stood beside Sarah’s bed the entire time she was in the hospital. Sarah wasn’t sure if anyone could see her, it didn’t really matter because having her there gave her immense comfort. Every day at lunch, Tilly would bring a big pot of hot soup and baked bannock and the whole family would gather in Sarah’s room and eat together. Without question, this was the highlight of Sarah’s days and better than any medicine the doctors gave her.
She knew something had changed in her body. Or rather, something had come back. The cancer. The doctor confirmed this, informing Sarah the cancer had spread to her lungs. Sarah knew this meant her time was limited, and she had best spend what was left of it in meaningful ways. For Sarah, that was with her family.
She was grateful to go home, and be back on the land that she was connected to. Her family set a hospital bed up in the living room where Sarah could see the river and watch the birds. When Annie left, her daughter set up a laptop beside the bed and made it so all Sarah had to do was push a couple buttons and she could skype with Annie in Toronto.
The Stitch ’n Bitch ladies took turns dropping in to visit and bring food. Even though Sarah had virtually no appetite, she appreciated that the ladies fed her family. Mabel had videoed Sarah dancing at the Pow Wow and that was Sarah’s favorite thing to do when any of them came to visit. It brought back such beautiful memories.
In the quiet of the day or the early morning hours, the young woman would visit. Sarah knew the young woman had been sent from the other side to help her prepare for the transition from Earth to the Spirit World.
Annie
Annie stayed with Sarah for only a few days after she came home. While she was more than welcome to stay longer, her help was no longer needed. Sarah’s oldest daughter had finished university and would care for her mom…and Annie was ready to go home.
She found it odd that when she got home to her Liz and their life in Toronto, she craved the quiet and gentler pace of living on the reserve. Of living with Sarah and her family. Annie longed for the smell of fry bread. Although she attempted a few times to make it, it always turned out like hockey pucks and tasted like the pages of books that had been dropped in the tub. As well, Annie longed for time with the Stitch ’n Bitch ladies. Sometimes, she’d stay up late so she could FaceTime with them at their meetings. And, of course, she missed Chuck and Poncho. She hungered for family, for community, and for her culture. It wasn’t the kind of hunger that causes your stomach to growl, but rather the kind that causes a longing in your soul.
Annie wasn’t sure how to attend to the hunger. She didn’t feel comfortable going to any of the elders’ lunches or gatherings at the Friendship Centre. Maybe one day, but not yet.
Instead, she returned to the library, this time as a community member and began devouring books written by Indigenous authors. On the trip, Lucy had given Annie her first book by an Indigenous author, Monkey Beach, and she was hooked.
She also started smudging and offering prayers every morning.
After a couple months of reading and adjusting to retired life at home, Annie summoned up the courage to go to an elders’ luncheon at the Native Canadian Centre in downtown Toronto. When she opened the door and entered, Annie was greeted by the now familiar scent of sweetgrass.
Lucy
Lucy found herself bored once they got home. She had never been one to sit around and do nothing, but the trip had reminded her how much she loved being with people. She was reading the community newsletter and saw that the school was looking for an elder to come in a couple days a week. They were calling it Elder in Residence.
Lucy showed it to Rose and told her she was thinking about going over to the school to talk to the principal and check things out.
“Yes!”
Lucy’s head snapped back. Yes? Was this her Rose? Usually she was a NO and sometimes, if you got lucky, she’d eventually get to a yes.
Rose continued, “Do it Lucy! Those kids an’ the teachers, matter o’ fact, the whole school, would be lucky to have you.”
Lucy’s eyes welled with tears. Not so much from the kind words Rose had shared, but more from witnessing how her friend was changing. To the Rose that Lucy always knew was in there. It made Lucy realize just how much the trip had impacted each of them, in their own way.
The next day, Lucy went up to the school and before she knew it she was introduced to and sitting in a class with grades 3, 4, and 5. The teacher was telling the students that tomorrow they’d be going down to the river as part of their science unit.
Lucy put up her hand.
“Yes, Lucy?” the teacher asked.
“Umm. Do you think I could come with you?”
The teacher gave a sideways glance to the principal who gave a nod of her head.
“Sure Lucy, we’d love that.”
“Great!” Lucy turned to the students. “There’s this real special spot I want to show you. My daddy used to take me there when I was a tiny girl. In the springtime, just like now, he’d show me how to find the spots along the river where the water wasn’t flowing as fast. I’d have to sit real still and watch for flying ants. Sometimes, I’d sit there and sit there and sit there. No ants. Then some days, they’d be everywhere. The flyin’ ants are like little messenger. They tell us the trout are running.”
“But trout don’t run, they swim,” said one of the students.
Lucy giggled at herself, which made it okay for the students to giggle as well. “Sometimes I say the silliest things.”
The next day, down by the river and with the children, Lucy felt alive. Like, really alive. Just as she had on their trip.
It was also the first day of many that Lucy was the school’s Elder in Residence.
Bea and Chuck
While they were away, neither Bea nor Chuck spent much time considering what life would be like when they got home. Or just how much of an adjustment it would be for each of them. And their children, who, for most of their lives had only known their parents as being separated and not really all that fond of each other.
Chuck moved in with Bea and one of the blessings was that he traveled for work. This gave each of them some time alone—time that, over the years of being single, they’d become accustomed to and needed.
Bea continued her work as a counselor at the Friendship Centre, but the way she worked with clients deepened. The trip had taught her, again, the importance of forgiveness. And that, yes, we can learn to love again.
One Sunday morning as they were returning home from a walk, Chuck turned to Bea. “You know all those years that we were blanket married.”
“Blanket married?” she asked as she opened the front door.
“Yeah, you know. We got to do everything married couples do under the blanket,” he said mischievously.
Bea gave him a sideways glance as she headed up the stairs toward the kitchen. Chuck followed and continued talking, “But we never got properly married, and I was thinking, well, I was thinking, that maybe—maybe that was our problem.”
She shook her head. “No, Chuck. Our problem was that we both liked the sauce too much.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, but, see, there’s my point.”
“What point?”
“We don’t drink anymore, so…I don’t know, I was thinking that maybe…” He looked out the window for a moment, summoning his courage and taking a deep breath.
He pulled the ring box from his chest pocket and using the kitchen counter to steady himself, he got down on one knee. Chuck opened the box, revealing the engagement ring with the two eagles coming together and the diamond set between their beaks. The ones he had bought when they were in Las Vegas.
An audible gasp escaped from Bea. She looked at the ring, then to Chuck and back to the ring. She had not seen this coming.
“Bea MacArthur, mother of our children, grandmother of our grandchildren, the love of my life and the only woman who can bring me to my knees, will you marry me?”
Again, Bea looked from the ring to Chuck. “For real?” she asked. “For real this time?”
“Yes, Bea, for real.”
Bea studied him for a few moments. “I don’t know, Chuck. What if we’re making a mistake?” She crossed her arms. “A big mistake?”
Chuck reached up, uncrossed Bea’s arms, and took her hands in his, holding them to his chest. “We’re not making a mistake, Bea. I love you and you love me.”
The tension left Bea’s shoulders. Chuck continued. “We aren’t in our twenties anymore. We can make this work. I know we can. I believe in us.” It was this last sentence that caused the usually stoic Bea to release her tears.
He asked again, “So, what do you think? Want to get married? To me?”
She reached down and cradled his face in her hands. Looking deep into his eyes, she smiled and said, “Yes, Chuck, I’ll marry you.”
“Oh, thank goodness, because I was beginning to think—”
But before he could finish she cut him off. “Shut up and kiss your bride to be.” Very few people ever saw this playful side of Bea, a part of her personality that Chuck always seemed to bring out.
With his face still cradled in her hands, Bea leaned down and met Chuck’s lips with hers. After a few moments, Chuck pulled away. “You know, I could do a much better job at that if you’d help me up to my feet.”
“Oh, I think you’re doing a mighty fine job.” Bea pulled on one arm and with the other, he pushed up on the counter until he was standing.
57
Six Months Later…Making Peace
AS SOON AS she got the call that Sarah was back in the hospital, Annie caught the first flight west. A few days after she arrived, Sarah slipped into a coma. Annie and Sarah’s daughters did what they could to make the hospital room a loving space, including covering Sarah with the quilt that the Stitch ’n Bitch women had made for her. In the center, they had put a photo of Sarah dancing at the Gathering of Nations Pow Wow.
On day four day of the coma, Annie was resting her head on the bed and had Sarah’s hand in hers. At first, when she heard “Annie,” she thought she was dreaming. Realizing it wasn’t a dream, she sat straight up.
Sarah’s eyes were half open. She turned her head toward her sister and asked, “’Member the tulips?”
“The tulips?”
“Your…” She took a few short, raspy breaths before continuing, “…bucket list stop.”
Annie nodded. Of course, the tulips. She leaned in closer to Sarah.
“’Member. How you told me…’bout forgiveness…’bout how. You forgave. Father Murphy ’n the nuns?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Well. I forgave ’em too. For everythin’ they did to me. And to you. I made. My peace. With ’em.” Sarah closed her eyes.
Tears streamed
down Annie’s cheeks.
58
Family
LUCY WAS THE first to receive the call that Sarah was awake. She immediately called Rose and between them they let the Stitch ’n Bitch group know. Mabel also called Tilly, and just as Annie had done, Tilly caught the first available flight. Within a few hours, Tilly and the Crazy Eights were gathered in Sarah’s room.
At the top of the bed, on either side of Sarah, stood Poncho and Annie. Tilly and the others formed a circle around the bed, just as they had back in California.
A lifetime ago.
Everyone knew that Sarah’s hours on Earth were numbered.
Poncho smiled down at Sarah and removed his cowboy hat. “Some say you’re simply transitioning to the other side of the creek, where you can still see us and we can still feel you.”
The left side of Sarah’s face lifted in an attempted smile. Over the last couple of days, she had found a sense of peace in knowing she was saying her good-byes. And although she was no longer afraid to make this transition, she knew that wasn’t the case for her family.
Sarah knew that family isn’t always about blood relations. Family is also those whom you love and who love you.
Every person around her bed had woven their way into her heart.
They were family.
Sleep was drawing her in once again. In the distance Sarah heard the faint beating of a drum. She turned her head toward the sound.
***
Annie invited Tilly and the elders to sit with her and Sarah. Once settled, they remained quiet, alone with their thoughts and feelings.
Time is a funny thing. Ten minutes can feel like ten hours and one hour can feel like a blink of an eye. There is no telling how long they sat adrift in their own thoughts.
It was Tilly whose soft voice brought them all back to the present. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, but we haven’t all been together since our trip.” She reached into her pocket and removed a tobacco tie that she had taken to always carrying with her. As she rubbed it between her fingers, she began to share. “I want to say kinânksomitin. Thank you to each of you.” She looked at each elder in turn. “Thank you for the kindness you gave me on our trip.” The emotions rising in her chest and forming in her eyes surprised her. “Well, the only other time I’ve felt so cared about was with my Grandma Tilly. You all took such good care of me when I was supposed to be taking care of you.” She couldn’t help but smile and laugh softly at the memory. “I really was lost on that trip.” A few of the elders nodded. “But I’ve made lots of changes and want you to know that Mick and I found our way back, and not just back, but to a better place. It was hard, real hard, but it’s been almost six months now, and there’s a big change in our marriage and our friendship.” Tilly paused. “So, I just wanted to thank you. Each one of you.” She took her time connecting with them as she looked around the circle. She would forever be grateful for the role each played in her life.
Tilly and the Crazy Eights Page 21