Scenic Route

This weekend was just so strange. Suddenly I was back in Saskatchewan, and seeing people that I normally only see twice a year. Suddenly I was back on the camp grounds, where I'd been only a few weeks ago, back to that place where I have such an emotional connection, and which is almost as much home as this house in Regina is (I've known both places since I was born). Suddenly, I was coming to terms with the fact that my grandmother was laying in a casket, and was stirring up every childhood memory of her.

Suddenly, my Dad was so much less coherent than he had been a few days before. So confused. Sometimes fine and speaking whole sentences, and dismissing all of our worries. Sometimes speaking complete nonsense. And I was realising how small and frail he is.

And then, this morning, I backed my parents' van up to their building and drove my Dad to the hospital. He sat beside me, and Mom sat in the back seat. As we drove through the familiar streets, I asked which route I should take. Mom joked that we should take the "scenic route."

You see, my grandparents used to live in North Battleford (which is, of course, why the funeral was there). My Dad grew up there. We used to stay at their house during camps, and when we were heading home for the afternoon, my Dad would take the "scenic route." Instead of taking the two minute direct drive to Grandma's, he'd head straight through at the lights and take us past the empty lot that used to have their old house. And then we'd turn right, past Connaught School, past the hospital where Dad was born, past the water tower, on to Grandma's house.

When I asked if I should take the fast route, Dad came to a little bit, and gasped out the words "Scenic route." And so I drove. Past the lot where Dad's first home used to sit. Past Dad's old school. And to the hospital where Dad was born.

And, for some reason, that was the point where I had the most trouble holding everything together.

(Okay, the visit to the Emergency Room this evening was also hard. Even though he'd already gotten much more coherent, and the doctor was really positive about how he won't have to be in the hospital for long. But Dad was so little and so scared.)