While there were a variety of challenges in our coming to Kenya, the absolutely hardest thing about our move to Kenya was leaving Spencer. He is the most special thing in my life.
Since forever, Spencer has been an easy going happy guy. As a child he was happy to entertain himself, but always got along well with others. He could go to the park and come home an hour later with several new ‘best friends’. He was very at ease with friends and strangers alike. He didn’t seem to experience any separation anxiety and seemed happy to go off to playgroup, school, scouts and eventually and especially camp. He brought friends home as often as he went to their homes. He could spend hours outside, doing anything and everything. He wasn’t a studious child and focusing on homework, I think like many boys, was a challenge. Certainly sorting out some reading issues helped, as did learning to break big tasks into smaller pieces, but as a kinesthetic learning and did better when the lessons and learning were active. Regardless of whatever academic challenge, he rarely got discouraged and maintained a (sometimes overly and possibly unrealistic) positive attitude. All through primary school he was happy for me to dress him (every mother’s dream) but eventually without too much dissent, he took on this activity, which came to consist primarily of jeans and t-shirts, like all his friends and class mates. He wanted to please and was hesitant to speak out if it would cause disruption.
He continues to be gregarious and charming. He has a quick and hilarious (at least to me) sense of humour, combined with a wicked grin, winning smile and killer dimples. Did I mention a mop of formerly blond curly hair? His love and appreciation of the out of doors and the natural world deepens. He is a gentle, caring individual. He enjoys sports more for the camaraderie and physical activity than for the competition. He is for the most part, laid back and easy going. At least, that’s how I see him!
Amongst his many friends, Alistair was his best friend. From the moment Alistair arrived, they were very close. Despite the usually brotherly rough housing, there was rarely much sibling rivalry. The two of them made a formidable team against parents or foe. They were each very different and yet they shared outdoor adventures, endless hours of hockey or gaming, secrets and a wonderful sense of humour. While most of Alistair’s middle school friends chose to go to Victoria Park or York Mills, he chose Don Mills Collegiate as his high school because Spencer was there. Alistair was independent and strong willed, nevertheless, he admired and loved his brother and wanted to be at school.
Spencer was not with us when we took Alistair to the doctor’s office and then hospital and received his diagnosis of Leukemia that December day in 2010 . But when we told him the news, he was there as soon as he could get there. He came to see him everyday and spent a lot of time at the hospital. Spencer was terrified of needles, but despite that, he donated his white blood cells which involves a needle in each arm for several hours, as the blood is removed, the while cells extracted and the remaining blood returned to the donor. Spencer was the best match and he did that twice! We all spent New Year’s Eve together as Alistair underwent the first of three surgeries. The four of us were together the last time Alistair was conscious. The four of us were together, holding hands, when life support was removed and Alistair heart beat for the last time. When we became a different sort of family of four. Alistair is always with us, just in a very different way now.
Over the subsequent few days after Alistair died, as we moved in a sort of slow motion auto-pilot, Spencer was with us, like us, shaken and broken. His best friends came by several times to offer their friendship, support and love. He spoke beautifully at Alistair’s service and shared with us all gathered that day that the best moment of his life was when Alistair came home from the hospital, a couple of days old, and he sat in the nursery rocking chair holding his baby brother. We have the photo of that moment.
At the best of times, life isn’t necessarily easy for teenagers. It can be full of challenges, academic and personal, and there are pressures of the present and future, as well as a battery of decisions to make, some more significant than others, some potentially life altering. It’s a dizzying, intoxicating time. Eventually, Gary and I went back to work and Spencer went back to school. At least Gary and I were not faced with constant reminders of Alistair’s presence at work, like Spencer was at school. It was a very difficult place for Spencer to be. Just as reality of his loss was sinking in for Spencer, his friends were moving on. He must have felt more alone than ever. The three of us stayed as close together as three suffering family members can. There is no map or guide-book for navigating through the mine fields of grief but I kept Spencer’s needs (or what I imagined them to be) first and foremost. We tried to make new family memories, going to places we hadn’t been to before, like Buffalo for hockey, lacrosse, hotels, restaurants and shopping on our first family day without Alistair, Feb 2011. We did grief counseling together and separately. I highly recommend counseling. In fact, as we worked through our grief and loss, over the course of several months, the focus of the counseling evolved and we raised, discussed and tried to address, if not resolve, issues of everyday living, of everyday marriage, parenting, work life balance challenges and the like. In the meantime, we hung out at the farm, our healing Balm. Some of Spencer’s friends graduated that spring, and he enjoyed the grad formal with his friends, but as part of his high skills major, he needed to complete a co-op term For Spencer’s co-op term, he got a job working at an organic farm in the county where he stayed until he went back to school in Sept. We purchased a wonderful old Toyota Tercel that he could get to and from work. It was a bit of a fresh start for Spencer and he put his blood and sweat and I suspect a few tears into the work those five and a half months. Gary worked from the farm and I got there as often as possible, sometimes working from there as well. Life was slowing seeping back into the three of us.
Spencer’s two terms at school, pushing through to the finish line were not easy, without friends, without his brother. On the second family day without Alistair, my father passed away from the blood cancer he had so bravely and stoically fought for 8 months. He had been such a steady anchor for all of us. He was a coach, mentor, sounding board and cheerleader for all of us. He was patient, optimistic, grateful, interested and non-judgmental. It was another huge loss for our family. But push through Spencer did and he graduated with great marks. We were so proud of what he had accomplished not only academically, but for his strength of character, for the man he was becoming. He wasn’t keen to go to his graduation ceremony, but I thought it important to put a formal close on this challenging yet rewarding formative chapter of his life. So the three of us went. I have the sense that he felt it was much ado about nothing. After all, he had mentally wrapped up high school some time prior to the formal commencement.
Naturally, it was time for Spencer’s next step on his road to independence and maturity. Moving on, moving away. College or university. Given Spencer’s love of the environment and his high school specialization, Environmental Studies was the right field. Given his preference for experiential learning, college would be best. Eventually, Spencer settled on the Environmental Technician 2 year program at Canadore, in North Bay. After another summer in the county at Vickie’s Veggies, Spencer was anxious and excited to get to college. He got into residence and had 3 other room mates. He enjoyed the courses, his teachers and the other students. He loved the labs, often hours outside. He played hockey. And as in the past, he made new friends. Spencer was in his element. We Skype as often as we could and we could see and hear his excitement, enjoyment and occasionally, at exam time, anxiety. All good things and as it should be for him.
It was Gary and I that were struggling with our new normal, our empty house and Gary retired. How do you make sense of life if the one thing that should never happen has happened? In our shock and sadness, we weren’t really prepared for the ‘normal’, quasi-anticipated (e.g. somewhere off in the future, eventually) changes that came along. Since Alistair died, I kept going, barely holding it together, knowing that Gary and Spencer needed me. As much as I might have wanted to crawl under the covers forever, Spencer had to know that he was important and loved as well. He needed role models for dealing with loss and grief and moving forward. But now that he was away at school, he still needed us, but in a way that was evolving, growing and morphing into something different. That was good news. What about us? Well, maybe that was the not so good news. We were stuck. Every where we turned, everything we did, everyone we met, was a reminder of what was. Oh how we needed help, we needed change. Me, of all people, the one who might like adventure, but certainly not change. Writing this now, I wonder if that was the trick for me, to see this latest life change, our move to Africa, as an adventure. Everything we left behind is still there, the house in the city, the farm in the county. Well, not everything, there isn’t a job for me back home, but then, even if we stayed in Canada, there was no guarantee of a job, for the cuts continue and seem to get closer.
So when the universe answered my call for help and the opportunity in Kenya arose, and the most pressing obstacles began to resolve themselves, there were still my doubts about leaving Spencer. Would he feel abandoned, isolated, unloved? Would he understand, forgive us? He told us he understood, that he thought it was a great opportunity and that he would be FINE. “Really mom, I’ll be fine.” At the same time, I think he was telling his friends that he thought we were nuts! In a way, he might have been right and probably from his perspective we were.
There was a lot to organize in 6 weeks. A property manager for the house in the city, someone to mow the lawn and someone to check in on the farm regularly. Cars to put away, insurance to change, 2 years worth of doctors appointments and prescriptions, copies of all banking, health care, legal, medical etc documents, one for Spencer, one for Christa and on for us. Mail forwarding. Pet care. Six series of shots. I don’t know what else.
Spencer had started a new summer job, working at Sunshine Centre for Seniors (in Christa’s footsteps) during all this hustle and bustle. It was on Centre Island, so it was the best of both worlds, away from city during the day and in the city for evenings and weekends. Pretty cool. Christa, as she has done so generously and caringly so many times, took another ‘displaced person’ into her fold. As half siblings, they have been close over the years, but now she played a role she has played so well and often with others: sister, friend, mentor, mother. Stephan, William and Ben patiently accepted Spencer into their home and daily lives. We will be forever grateful for the safe haven they provided and continue to provide even when he isn’t under their roof.
So the summer flew by and I suspect that Spencer barely realized we were away. Or perhaps he was pleasantly aware that we were away. We exchanged emails often, but we certainly couldn’t nag or hound him about his mess, his finances, his late hours or anything else that parents fuss a 20 year old about!
Once September rolled around, Spencer headed back north to North Bay and Canadore College. One of the benefits of our move was complete access to the little county car. He was a man on campus with wheels. It simplified his life and made visits to and from Toronto, as well as grocery shopping and any sports games and practices, easier. He settled quickly into a routine in his second and final year at Canadore with new room mates in the same residence.
His arrival in Nairobi in Dec 2013 was the happiest moment of our time here. With some coaching and will power, he has overcome (or learned to manage) his fear of flying and survived the 3 flights to get here. I think his excitement to get here helped. There were tears of joy at the airport as the three of us were reunited. I had decorated the house to make it festive and Christmassy, but it was completely unnecessary. As long as we were together, we were going to have a great time. We saw and did and ate and drank and slept and met and partied and chatted and cried and laughed together. It was almost like old times and definitely the best time the three of us had had in 3 years. It was WONDERFUL. I could see and feel for myself that Spencer had been fine without us. We spent all of Jan 6th together as we had the past 4 years. As the sun slid away and the day wound down, we took Spencer out to the airport to make his way home. This time, I think exhaustion helped steady his nerves.
With only 4 months of school remaining, Spencer kept his shoulder to the grindstone, completing field assignments and reports. House league hockey helped him burn off energy and probably frustration too. Spencer didn’t share a lot about his marks, but for the most part he was pleased with his grades and was doing well. Again, he began to look forward to the end of school. He was anxious to start working, or at least enjoy having a steady income.
As Easter was approaching and Spencer was wrapping up school, we were preparing to head home for a visit to Canada. My team of dear, tireless, faithful, ‘rogue volunteer’ friends had organized the fourth and final “Project 162 – Pay it Forward” Memorial Blood Donor clinic is Alistair’s memory. Still very successful, it seemed like it was time for the event in its current form, with food and beverages, raffle and silent auction, to end on a high note. Perhaps others, like the Canadian Blood Services and the Leukemia Society of Canada would want to take over. Either way, since its inception, we had far exceeded our goal of collecting 162 units of blood and raise awareness of both childhood cancers as well as the need to donate blood. It was time to move on. But it was important for us to be there at this final event. We also timed our return to coincide with my mother’s 90th birthday. A remarkable milestone that so few ever attain.
In hindsight, I tried to jam too much into 10 days at home, including 3 days in the office and Easter at the farm, as well as appointments with doctor’s, dentists, accountants and of course lots of visiting. But it was wonderful to be back once again. We were not able to accommodate everything in a short trip home. We did have the pleasure of meeting Ashley, Spencer’s delightful girlfriend of a year now. They met at Canadore where she is a social work student. She is a lovely girl from Durham, Ontario. It was a pleasure to have her visit us at the farm, where she was the first to roll up her sleeves to help in the kitchen and around the farm. They treat each other with respect and thoughtfulness and its clear they are very happy together.
One of the things we were not home for was Spencer’s graduation. It was scheduled to happen several weeks after our return to Kenya. Spencer had already moved back to Toronto, to his summer job at Sunshine Centre and to his place at Christa’s. Once again, he didn’t appear keen to go attend the grad ceremony. But regardless of attending the formalities, he has graduated and we are, as always, proud of what he has accomplished.
Since that time, while working at his summer job this year, he started looking for a permanent job in his chosen field of the environment. Anyone who has looked for a job these days knows that it often takes several jobs before one finally lands a ‘career’ job. It really is a job to get a job. I remember how anxious I was when I graduated from McMaster, anxious to start working immediately and not be hanging around home. It was a bit reminiscent of waiting for Spencer to be born. Anxious to deliver, but knowing it was, to a large extent, out of my hands! The environment industry is relatively new and growing but it’s still serves a very niche market. Fingers crossed he will find a job that not only fills his coffers, but feeds his passion and sustains his soul. To make this stage in his life more challenging, we were not home to provide him with food, shelter, comfort, support, cheerleading and nagging. Nevertheless, he has risen to the challenge. He his back in North Bay working for Canada Post. I suspect these days he may be feeling a bit like Santa Claus delivering parcels in the snow! Ashley is in Canadore completing her program this year, so he is with friends. I am grateful that her family has become a second family and home to him. I just hope he will take us back when we return.
Back in Nairobi, life continues on for us. I am in the office 5 days a week. Gary manages things at home and volunteers and tries to golf once a week. We usually Skype with Spencer at least once a week, though with our schedules and an 8 hour time difference during daylight savings, it’s not always possible. I would love to be able to see him in person, to give him a hug, hear more of his day to day challenges, learning and successes, regardless of how trivial or significant they may be. I would love to have meals with him, where our conversations bounce like a pin ball from topic to topic, sometimes erupting in laughter, other times a heated discussion. I know that I am missing annoying arguments or frustrations about clothes on the floor, food left out in the kitchen, open containers in the fridge, who should walk the dog etc. In other words, I miss the minutia of life as a family. I miss seeing him grow into a mature man.
As Christmas approaches I feel his absence more keenly. Spencer, with his new job, probably won’t have much time off. We, with the farm closed up, don’t have our own place to stay in Toronto. So we will not be returning to Canada for Christmas and Spencer will not be joining us. It will be the first time in 22 years we won’t be together. Of course, it was bound to happen sooner or later. But I shall miss him even more. It will make us appreciate how precious our time together is. Christmas will be different, but that’s not the end of the world. There will be many more Christmases together, at the Balm. I hope he knows how much he means to me, how much I would do for him, how our time apart has not changed how much I love him. Or maybe it has changed how much I love him because I am not sure I could love him more, but maybe I feel the love even more.
As Nelson often says, “We keep going.” And so we do. We will be together and home again, soon enough.
Love you Spencer, too, too much. XOXOX
Ahoy Africa 