May 2010
Saturday, May 1st, 2010
Some of you have inquired how the meet-and-greet-our-future-daughter-in-law-from-Thailand-trip I mentioned in an earlier entry turned out. So, buckle up your seat belts and I’ll take you with me to the West Coast of Vancouver Island on that September weekend.
Sa wat dee ka
On the way at last! Our Matrix entered a series of hairpin corners and a rich blur of golds, maroons, and greens slid by my husband’s window when I glanced at that way. My eyes swung to the right to take in the deserted lake a few feet from the road. The calm reflecting waters nestled in the sunlit valley zigzagging through the steep emerald mountain slopes could not touch my excitement. Feeling as if bugs were jiving in my stomach, I turned back to the narrow road of frost heaves and cracks that was about to veer sharply around a sheer rock face. What will she be like, this future daughter-in-law from halfway around the world?
Sa wat dee ka, I rehearsed mutely, when the car finally arrived at the modern little cabin that my son had rented in Ucluelet. ‘Hello’ seemed too formal a way to greet someone I could hardly wait to meet and I sighed, wishing that I’d had time to learn more Thai. Good thing she speaks English. How could I know that he’d fall in love during his month of holidays with missionary friends in May or foresee that he’d return in late summer to propose marriage?
The rat-a-tat-tat of Allan’s knuckles on the wooden door caused my heart to race. Sa wat dee ka, ran through my mind again and I nervously hoped that I wouldn’t murder her language. Then, the tiny woman opening the door grabbed my attention. Young, slender, sleek snipped hair, round face, fawn-coloured skin. Her timid brown eyes met mine and her lips parted to reveal perfect teeth. ‘Sa wat dee ka’ fled from my mind. “Hi! Can I give you a hug?” I asked, and her smile broadened as she reached out.
Shortly afterwards, Kevin appeared behind his fiancee.
“So, you met Dang,” he beamed, using her nickname after she had squeezed through the doorway to go inside.
His simple words conveyed such pride and tenderness that the grin in my eyes grew.
He bent slightly to gather me into a “glad to see you again” hug. “She’s tired so I thought we’d cool it here tonight,” he explained, as my lips brushed his cheek. “Just make supper, hang out, and watch a movie.”
I stepped back, nodded happily, and followed him into the cabin.
The heavenly smell of freshly ground coffee met me at the top of the hardwood stairs early the next morning. “‘Morning Son,” I said, starting down. “How is she?”
His blue eyes brightened. “She’s better.” He turned around to flip open a white cupboard door and reveal a sparse set of dishes. “She’ll be down in a few minutes. She was cold last night when I checked so I gave her my blanket.”
Stretching to unhook a mug, I asked, “Weren’t you cold then? Did you come down for the extra fleece one I brought?”
He reached past me, placed the mug beside the coffee pot, and answered softly, “No, I didn’t want to wake her up. I was okay.”
I studied his weary face. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Not much.”
Crawling out of the car’s back seat in the gravel parking lot in Pacific Rim National Park a few hours later, I blinked in the unseasonably bright sun. My gaze darted away from the two glinting cars that were already there and landed on Kevin and Dang when I heard a teasing male voice and soft female chuckle. Seeing that he was zipping up her pink winter jacket, a corner of my mouth turned up. At least she shouldn’t be cold, with that on over her long johns, clothes, and light jacket. Good thing she’s feeling better. It’d be a shame to miss seeing Schooner Cove.
Late that afternoon, the shimmering crescent-shaped beach and dazzling waters I’d just returned from clung to my mind like the sand in my upside-down shoes. I shook each black leather shoe again before banging it against the front porch railing. Satisfied that most of the golden grains had trickled onto the painted boards, I placed the pair neatly beside Allan’s brown runners just inside the door. A chuckle rose to my throat when I noticed the snarled heap of large runners and small shoes nearby. After that, the conversation in the far end of the living room caught my attention. Dang isn’t eating supper? She went to bed? But she seemed to be enjoying seeing the beaches and taking pictures! Wonder what’s wrong. Maybe the change in water and diet, along with flipping her sleep patterns and jet lag. I hope she didn’t pick up a bug on the eighteen-hour flight here.
Sock-footing-it down the stairway the next morning, I spotted Kevin perched at the wooden table. “Morning Kev.”
He looked up from the pamphlets spread out on the shiny tabletop. “‘Morning Mom. Dang’s still upstairs but she wants to see the whales today. So, I think we’ll see the lighthouse with you and then go into Tofino so we can go on a tour this afternoon.”
Relief nudged my heart. “Great, she must be feeling better. We want to explore more beaches today anyway. We’ll meet you here for supper.”
Is that a fishing boat or pleasure craft? I mused later, squinting at the small dark blob some distance out on the gleaming sea. The musical tones on Allan’s cell phone interrupted the swish of waves on sand and my eyes moved sideways. Realizing that Kevin was calling, I tried to figure out what was happening by reading Allan’s face and listening to his one-word answers.
“Dang wasn’t well enough to go out. They postponed the tour until tomorrow,” he said with a frown, closing the phone.
“Oh no. But won’t it be really late by the time they catch the ferry back to Vancouver and get home?” I watched his head bob. My brow creased. “Well, I just hope that she can go tomorrow.” How horrible to come so far to see everyone and everything and end up sick!
“Should I put this back?” Dang asked, pointing to the square of clear plastic that the green fleece blanket had arrived in.
I shook my head. “No. I think I’ll wash it first, in case you have a bug.”
A puzzled expression appeared on her face. “A bug?” Suddenly, she laughed. “Then you can say ‘sa wat dee ka’ to it.”
Sa wat dee ka. Hello. We’d said ‘hello’ this weekend and my heart was the better for it. A picture of Dang cocooned in the extra blanket, drinking coffee and chatting with me out on the back deck popped into my head. It was quickly replaced by one of her dark head and Kevin’s fair one touching as they poured over instructions to a new game across the table from me. This feels right, my heart sang. A sense of contentment took hold of me. They truly love each other. With the kind of love that goes beyond such things as adoring puppy-dog looks, affectionate hugs, and teasing. They have the kind that reveals itself in a willingness to suffer discomfort or set aside one’s own desires and agendas for the other’s welfare and benefit. A love that’s based on what one can give to the other, not on what one can get. Now, that’s genuine love! Maybe we should all ask ourselves, “When I love, is it with this kind of love?”
PS It seems that Dang’s illness was mostly caused by jet lag and fatigue. In mid-April she completed her last day of work as a nurse-anesthesiologist in the Operating Room of the Internationally renowned western-style hospital in Thailand. May 1st her family and friends celebrated with a marriage ceremony in Thailand. And in mid-May she immigrates to Canada. On May 29th she’ll be surrounded by new family and friends as we celebrate with a Canadian wedding. Whoopee! I can hardly wait for the end of the month! May two weddings usher in a future blessed with double the love.
