Early Morning Walk

We head out in the dark,
the world to ourselves,
me and the two dogs
happy to be alive.

Cape Blomidon rises up to the north
dark and foreboding,
Rocks piled into Inuksuks
form uncertain shapes,
is someone up ahead?

A thin red line demarcates the horizon
now the shapes reveal themselves
to be innocuous happenings.

My part Border Collie nips at my hands
no matter how much I swat at her and tell her
NO!
Ten thousand years of pure instinct tell her
to herd me to a safe place, even if we aren't sure
where that place is.

Now the toy farms are lit up with a soft
reddish glow
so picturesque they could be on a set of
the Friendly Giant.

We turn for home
Now the wind is in our face,
Bailey rolls in dead animal
What on earth possesses her to do that?

Our walk is done
Our daily bread
Thank you for this walk we had.

John D. Hill Q.C. In Memoriam

When I first started my blog I had a picture of my dad who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's.  Today I write about him in the past tense because he died last night at age 82. The picture I've posted is one of him as a young man in the reserves because I like to think about him, not as the dementia patient, but as the bright handsome young man who attended Acadia University where he studied languages and Dalhousie University where he studied law, and then headed west to seek his fame and fortune and find the love of his life, Jeanne.

Dad practiced law for many years in Edmonton but his true passions were wood-working and sailing. In spite of a grade 2 teacher telling him he couldn't do math he designed and built two beautiful sailboats. We would sale around Lake Wabamum outside Edmonton in a sailboat that was 24 feet and really too big for a lake. Our boxer Sam would role around in the bow of the boat seasick and I would be sneezing my head off being in such close quarters with her. Dad would be oblivious to all of this, just soaking in the wind and the water, imagining he was in a race somewhere off the coast of New Zealand or somewhere. My mom put up with this with good grace until one day she just figured out it was "boring". Occasionally they would get to the B.C. coast and dad would have a ball in the pacific ocean. He was a land-locked sailor who spent hours and hours in his workshop (read garage that never saw a car) sanding and painting to his  heart's content. One time he and a law partner had a car accident on the way to the coast which resulted in the whole top of the sailboat being sheered off. While rebuilding the boat a neighbour politely asked if that was how the boat was put away for the winter.

Dad loved animals being a member of the Elk Island Society and being heartbroken when our first dog Binky died. Though that didn't stop him from doing what needed to be done to a nasty tom cat who briefly terrorized our neighbourhood. When I was young he built a cage for my rabbits and when the time came to clean it out in the spring I was delighted to discover a fresh litter of baby bunnies. 

Dad built lots of beautiful wood objects: salad bowls, cribs, rocking horses, kayaks, furniture. On his 79th birthday some of my awesome friends and I took dad kayaking. He didn't remember doing it hours later but I know he loved it in the moment. Although he was only in the Naval Reserve for several years (to put himself through law school) he always talked about his time on the ships, and his love affair with the water.

Dad was my protector who never considered what might be politically correct when dealing with a bully. One time I almost died of embarrassment when he dragged me to the home of a boy who had been bugging me and confronted him; that kid never bothered me again. Dad was definitely of the "don't ever hit girls" school of thinking (which I may have used to my advantage when tormenting my younger brothers Iain and David). 

Several times dad was offered an appointment to the Queen's Bench of Alberta; he would have made an excellent judge but that was not his path. Had he been on the Bench and had my mom and dad stayed in Alberta instead of moving to Nova Scotia 15 years ago there would have been a big funeral with lots of Conservatives whom dad would have helped to get elected (until Mulroney came on the scene, dad couldn't stand him). Mom had one of the first tea parties for a young Peter Lougheed and she was so embarrassed because not many people showed up. Peter told her not to worry about it and it turned out he was right. 

But dad was not interested in the limelight; he was charming and liked to tease but was ultimately a shy person. Instead he died in relative obscurity in Nova Scotia where his body was generously donated by my mom to Dalhousie University to be used by students and medical professors. His body was gratefully accepted, Dr. Scott called us last night to tell us. His body can be used for up to three years and then will be cremated. At that point there will be a service and we will hear from the students and professors who benefited from his donation. I think this is a fitting tribute to a man who worked hard all his life for others, who always sought new learning and who was always a bit more of a dreamer than a realist.

Happy sailing Dad, I'm so glad you're free of these earthly bonds. I love you.