My son Todd had business in Manitoulin last summer. He told me “You would love it here mother”, so when I was feeling bored a few weeks ago I asked if I could self-invite to travel with him on his next trip there. Surprisingly that was only about three weeks distant on Mother’s Day weekend.
After driving with him and his workshop co-presenter to the presentation site on Monday morning he tossed me the keys to his manual transmission, fuel efficient car and told me to have a good day, having taken time over breakfast to enthusiastically outline a travel route and sight seeing map for me. My existing vehicle, a Ford Escape has an automatic transmission but in the past I have owned and driven stick shift, but it has been a long time.
Jerking a bit, I left the parking lot and went onto the highway. My first obstacle was a red light. My travel was to take me downhill and then toward a sharp right turn. Not being accustomed to the light touch required on the brake so it wouldn’t stall – and dancing between clutch, brake, accelerator, I kept stalling out. I felt frantic and helpless – my heart racing, on the verge of tears, I felt stupid. I kept trying. I didn’t feel safe. I waved the truck behind me to pass. Then a bright red truck pulled behind me. I waved him along too, but he pulled up beside and asked if I needed help. I can’t believe I said “no”.
Realizing I didn’t feel safe, the only option appeared to be driving back to the B & B and parking the car for the day. Once through the light I cut up a sidestreet thinking it was the path of least resistance. Wrong! A stop sign rested at the top of a crest. Once stopping, my feet and my brain did another frantic dance as I crept slowly backward, braking suddenly, and stalling out a few times. I felt afraid as a gully was getting closer to the rear tires. I could see a small group of men standing behind a building, one man breaking away walked toward me to ask if I needed help. I didn’t say no this time. We were about a block from the B & B and I asked if he could drive me there. Robert graciously took over the wheel, drove to the Robinson Street address and parked the car. This ended up being my base for the day.
I am solution oriented by nature and my first thought was that this was no problem. I would still be able to enjoy the day. I would rent a car. However, after making a few inquiries of local merchants I realized that the closest car rental was in Sudbury, about an hour’s drive away.
I worked hard not to be discouraged by this turn of events. My son was eager for me to enjoy my day. He was happy that he provided the opportunity for me to see this beautiful island where he imaged me lunching at a place he wanted me to experience. I was feeling bad that this would disappoint him too. For over an hour I was fighting back tears feeling that I was landlocked in a small area of Little Current when there were so many other things to see.
I am normally in good control of my life experiences and when things are out of my control, have learned to go with the flow as I anticipate new adventures that present themselves. I watch for surprises. This day was about letting go of the need to be in control, finding a way to enjoy the day with grace, and as it turned out, to benefit from many blessings through the kindness of strangers.
This started with the man in the red truck (who I think drove into the OPP parking lot) and Robert from Acme Motors http://www.hotfrog.ca/Companies/Acme-Motors-Manitoulin. Mother’s Day dinner with Todd and Celese (name of program) was at the Anchor Inn Restaurant http://www.anchorgrill.com where I was introduced to Kelly who would be catering their lunch at the workshop. This restaurant was the first place I thought of to ask about a car rental. While talking with Kelly I was fighting back tears. No car rental. No island tour. By myself. Nothing to do. Where do I go? What do I do? This kind, clear eyed lady, a stranger to me, offered her car for part of the day after her catering deliveries were done. In the meantime, she took me to the bar side of their establishment which also houses hotel rooms. We interrupted a young woman who was cleaning the floor in the semi-darkness as Kelly offered this space to me as a home base if I wished to use it. She pointed to a computer at the end of the bar and offered its use if I wished to do email. We arranged to connect later in the day to transfer the vehicle to me.
After checking and responding to a few emails I emerged into the day, breathing in the blue of the bay, bluer sky and bright sun. Kelly had suggested with her pointed hand the direction I might walk to see a bit of waterfront scenery. Once I started walking I felt much better. I felt on task. I was doing something. I was moving. I didn’t feel stuck any more. And when I have my camera with me I am never lonely and always find jewels that capture my attention.
Water, boats, docks, boardwalks are my thing. Returning to town centre I continued writing my story of the day. I chose a bench where I sat taking in the gentle breeze, conscious of the sun that warmed my hair. With my book in hand I happily followed the writer’s words into the world of her story and at lunchtime retraced my steps to the Anchor Inn Restaurant where I chose a menu offering from their sidewalk sandwich board.
My son is a strong advocate and educator relating to matters of climate change and environment, so when I went into the downstairs washroom I was conscious of, and impressed by the motion sensor light which illuminated when I opened the door, and extinguished when I left.
I notice acts of kindness and generosity. Sitting at my dining room table I observed a man peeking in the corner doorway. He entered the dining room through another door and said something to the hostess about a wheelchair. There was no formal handicap access into the restaurant. Without question, the hostess walked to the kitchen and returned with two young men who opened the corner door, went outside, and carried the wheelchair with its passenger, into the restaurant. I wouldn’t think this was a standard practice, but on this day it impressed the heck out of me.
After lunch I went back to my boardwalk bench and by 1:30 in the afternoon I felt comfortable in my day, happy where I had been planted. I went back to the restaurant to see if Kelly had returned from delivering lunch. She wasn’t, but I left word with her staff to thank her for her kind offer, and let her know that I wouldn’t be needing the car. I was o.k. with where I was. When at dinner at the Anchor Inn Restaurant on Mother’s Day and on this day I found their staff not only friendly and helpful, but shining. Their smiles literally lit up the room each time I encountered them.
Later in the day I returned to Todd’s car so I could sit comfortably and rest in the warmth of it. A short while later the owner of the B & B came out. She said she noticed me waiting and wondered if I would like to come in and have a coffee. I declined as I made a mental note of yet another kindness extended to me.
Near the conclusion time of the workshop I walked back to meet Todd and Celese. Todd caught a ride back to the B & B to get the car and we were shortly on our way. He was disappointed and I think he felt sad for me, knowing what I had missed.
I think my day was exactly as it was meant to be. I wasn’t meant to be running around. I was supposed to be still, observing, taking in the natural wonders of the day, staying put, allowing myself to be vulnerable, teaching myself to ‘get over it’ and adjust my sails to the new course of the day. I was truly blessed and grateful that I was able to see and experience the kindness of strangers in Little Current, Manitoulin Island, Ontario.
Urged to keep up with what is going on in our fair city, I showed up with many members of my family for the Walk for a Creative City, joining the Mayor’s Walk for a stroll to the Riverfront Pavillion.
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