It started on a high note.
We were on our way to see our angel, Baby Ava. We missed her so much. She arrived a couple of weeks ago and it was time to see her again. So J and I packed the kids. He made chicken sandwiches for the trip, I packed four bottles of water and my big camera and off we went. It's a long drive to downtown.
The place was packed! It's like the whole of Toronto decided to come to High Park all at the same time. I've never seen this place so full of people! Just the same it was a gorgeous day and since everyone was in high spring spirits, the crowd didn't bother me at all.
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| Street Artist playing his homemade harp-like instrument. |
It didn't bother me but it bothered the bana. He was flustered over how the plans kept changing. We were to meet M and B with their respective families at Point A. Turns out, when we got to that point, they moved to Point B already. Sapot!
The little guy, J, who has flat feet was, was now complaining. He can't walk long lengths, even with his very expensive insoles, it still hurt he says. I said, half-blaming, to J "I should have worn my sneakers!" which I was going to but since he said "It's a short walk, moccasins are ok, I didn't. Now my feet hurt, too. "Where are we? Are we lost?" He makes another call.
I walked slowly. So did Little J. I was enjoying myself in spite of the small ache starting to grow in my right instep. These shoes ain't made for walkin'.
But because I chose to take it slow, take photos, take in the glorious sights around me - oh, look at that tree with white blossoms! - it was manageable.
Baba J, on the other hand, was getting more and more agitated by the minute. Not a very happy camper, this one. I was beginning to feel it, too. High Park was beginning to feel like Low Park. Moods were changing, too much complaining. Him, kids, myself. Transference...it happens. But *click-snap-click* I kept distracting myself with the view. Families with babies, lovers with picnic baskets, dogs, oh, hello, doggie!, old people taking it slow, young people on skateboards zooming by...simply glorious.
My poor baby, J. He's in pain, he says. I think he's being impatient more than in pain. We've been walking for almost an hour now. We still haven't found the others at this point.
Just when Big J gave up on finding the rest of the group - this is a very big park, we just found out - we sat down at a quiet park bench and waited for him to come back with the car. Bless him for choosing to walk all the way back so we don't have to. Little J says again "Worse day ever, Mom." He's really bummed out. The older kids were handling it better. We decided to open the Sour Gummies that was meant for Auntie B. Times like these, sugar helps.
I called Auntie B. They decided to just go home, too. As we were laughing about how they were "So near yet so far." and making light of the gloomy moody situation of not finding each other (her and I see eye to eye when it comes to choosing to employ pollyanna tactics) she blurts out,
"Hey, Kat, I see you!"
"What, where...who...?"
"Turn around, right here across the street!"
I turn and see her waving! The brand new family of three, the reason for us making the long trek across town, were right there. We ran to them. Just like that, it all felt oh-so-worth it. Ha! Who knew that by sitting down on a quiet park bench, things you seek could come to you? ;)
I still wish I could have changed Big J's mood. I wish I could make him see what I saw, make him feel what I felt, instead of the sapot mood he chose to be in. But that's my lesson in all this. I can't change others. I can only change myself. I know that in my head. But it doesn't stop the feelings of frustration, OY! You bet I was feeling the sapot, too. And I was feeling blamey, deep down inside.
The car ride home was heavy, even lower than Low Park. Everyone was tired by now. And hungry. J and I had a quick exchange (read: argument) about how we were choosing to be. We left it hanging at "Let's agree to disagree on this one."
It was a quick Mc Do burgers for dinner for the kids.
The morning after, as I write this, I'm still feeling the tired, heavy feelings from last night's lesson. Yet another lesson - soul instruction - that needs to be learned. Mine, simply, is this: I can choose where to look. I can choose how to be. I can be in High Park or I can stay at Low Park.
For now, I choose to look at this wonderful view before me. This is Big J carrying Little J.
And the longer I stare at this photo, the more things are settling back into its proper perspective...
I think I'll make this my screensaver for today.
High Park, Low Park.
It's My Choice Park.
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