On Monday, January 25th, I got up early so that I’d be at Pearson airport in Toronto by a 8 a.m.  where I’d meet my daughter Nili and her three wonderful children Art, Noam and Freida, and together we’d fly on to Cancun for 6 days of vacation together.  Before I tell you about those days in the sun – and the days since I’ve returned home – please bare with me while I diverge for a moment.

Just in case you don’t know (yup, I am at heart still a teacher), the airport is named after Lester B. Pearson, Canada’s 14th Prime Minister (1963-1968) who, during his tenure, introduced universal health care (Obama, are you paying attention?  Canada has had universal health care since 1966; the province of Saskatchewan (where my sweetie David comes from) has had it since 1946),  student loans, the Canada Pension Plan, the Order of Canada, and the current Canadian flag.  He had already won a Nobel Peace Prize in 1957 for organizing the United Nations Emergency Force to resolve the Suez Canal Crisis.  He was truly a great Liberal leader and diplomat; we could use him today for sure.  Now … back to the story.

Nili and the kids began their travels earlier that day in Ottawa and the plane stopped in Toronto to pick up more passengers.  How exciting it was to greet them at the gate that morning!  I loved every minute of that week.  My days began early with a 5 a.m. wake-up call so I could slip down to the main pool and put towels on three deck chairs in the sun; my one complaint about the resort we’d gone to is that they let people reserve chairs this way which meant that if you just went down to the pool after breakfast you’d fine nowhere to sit but the shade.  Once I’d returned to my room I’d climb back into bed, turn on the TV, and watch the BBC news until whichever grandson who’d chosen to sleep in my room that night awoke and we switched to cartoons … a real treat for them since they don’t watch much TV at home.  Between 7 and 7:30 breakfast would arrive at the door (room service was part of the all-inclusive plan) and we’d sit – in our PJs, on the balcony overlooking the Caribbean Sea – and enjoy huevos rancheros and fresh fruit.  By 9 o’clock we’d be down by the pool.  Nili, Freida and I would lounge on those chairs for most of the day while the boys played in “Children’s Paradise” and snorkelled in the heated pool.  20 feet from our chairs was a palapa that on one side had hot dogs, hamburgers, fries, and nachos while on the other had a choice of non-alcoholic and alcoholic drinks.  About 40 feet away was a sushi stand where we’d get fresh sushi and sashima to snack on.  A shot of tequila was never more than minutes away!  Intermittently the boys would come and join us – usually because they were ready to eat something or have a cold drink – and visit for a while before returning to their own fun zone.  The weather was near-perfect and the days passed in quiescence.

Two amazing things evolved over those 6 days.  The first was that I had a chance to really get to know my granddaughter Freida.  She is amazing … and I don’t just say that because she’s ours.  I’ve been close to the boys since they were born … indeed I met Noam within minutes of his birth since I’d hopped on a plane for Ottawa the minute Nili called to say she was in labour.  I always love my time with them and this week in the sun with them was terrific.  On our 3rd day in Mexico we celebrated Freida’s 1st birthday.  That little beauty is so much fun; she has an incredible sense of humour for such a little one and day by day we developed little gestures that are our own “in” jokes.  By the end of the week she’d actually put out her arms for me to pick her up – even from the comfort of her mother’s arms – as she giggled “baba baba”.  She’s one of the happiest babies I’ve known and whether splashing in the pool, holding onto our fingers and walking along the deck, or snuggled into her Mom’s lap for a nap, she is sweet and beautiful and funny and did I mention beautiful?  What a gift having that time with her was, something I never had when I was working.  Okay … enough Baubie bragging.

The other really amazing thing that I experienced on this trip was sharing it with Nili.  In our hours basking in the sunshine together we connected not just as mother and daughter, but also as two mothers and two women.  Each and every day I saw new facets of Nili and marvelled at her ability to manage mothering, a stressful residency program, coordinating a women’s book club, and writing (and publishing) 2 books.  Her first book  - Hard Yakka – was published in 2007 and is a study of evolving relations between Australian Indigenous communities and government bureaucracies in the development, implementation, and evaluation of health policy which provides insights into the processes and politics of health care, analyzes inherent challenges of Indigenous self-determination, and reflects upon the roles played by anthropologists, sociologists, epidemiologists, and other proponents of action-oriented health research.  Her second book - Women Who Care – will be out shortly (click on the link for a preview or to order a copy).  In her third year of medical training, discouraged by how little focus there was on caring, Nili was faced with the decision to either throw her hands up and quit or speak up and work toward change.  She chose – not surprisingly – to harness her excess energy (God only knows where that comes from with all she has on her plate!) and the result is this new book which – through prose and poetry – captures the person and professional stories of women’s experiences as the providers and recipients of health care.  How incredible it is to feel this metamorphosis as two adult women find so much to love in each other and so much to talk about.  This gift of time to just hang out together is another piece of retirement I’m so grateful for.

Hard as it was to leave the sunshine and 30 degree weather to return to Toronto and a high of -5 degrees (yes, I did tell David several times during our phone conversations that I might just look for an ESL teaching job in Cancun and delay my return until the sun and warmth returned to Ontario) I was indeed eager to get back to my own book writing efforts.  I’d been cut off from my email while I was away – not an easy thing for me – and when I turned my iPhone back on once I’d landed in Canada I had over 5o emails waiting.  One of them – to my delight – was from the Executive Director of an association of American Schools in Central America and here’s what it said:

Dear Sylvia,

I would like to invite you present at our conference in October  10 & 11, 2011 in Panama City Panama.

Wow!  Just what I’ve been working toward and hoping for.  Of course I’d responded with a “yes, of course” immediately, and I’m hoping that this will be the first of many international opportunities to spread the word about social justice and education.

But wait – the good stuff continues.  My kitchen/lounge renovation is nearing completion.  So far I am absolutely delighted with what’s evolving.  I’ve never really designed space to this extent before and last night, as David and I snuggled on the couch and watched TV together, the smile on my face was almost as bright as the candle-light that flickered around the room.  Ah – another brief aside if you will.

Attention!  This is worth noting!  When I got home on Sunday evening I noticed a rectangular-shaped (about 1 inch x 1/2 inch) red patch on my face.  What was it?  Understand that I have a history of picking up strange ailments when I travel, much the way others pick up souveneirs.  Several years ago, while visiting Machu Pichu, I managed to brush up against something which housed little “things” which burrowed under my skin and made me incredibly itchy – not to mention totally grossed out.  That’s when I learned to always travel with clear nail polish; you dab a little on each entry site and it suffocates the “thing” … a travel tip worth remembering.  When that patch was no better by Monday afternoon I started getting worried about it.  I called my family physician who immediately faxed my skin specialist for an emergency visit and by Tuesday morning at 10 a.m. I was sitting in the dermatologist’s office.  Understand that my father had a run with skin cancer and this is something that lurks in the back of my mind, particularly since I am a sun worshipper who favours nothing higher than a #15 sun block and usually goes for the #8.  Nili had lectured me a little about the need to use a higher sun block and I’d jokingly responded that what I wanted written on my gravestone was “She died with a good tan”; that way anyone who takes the time to visit my grave will stand with a smile on their face at the in-joke.  Waiting in the dermatologist’s office I was a little less cavalier about the whole thing. I’d consciously chosen not to share with David how worried I was and not to ask him to come to the medical appointment with me; after all, to need him there beside me was to admit how scared I was and I always try to revert to the “don’t worry until you have no  option” philosophy.   How relieved I was to find out that it was phytophotodermatitis. Get this!  That’s a not-so-uncommon thing that happens when you get the juice of a lime, lemon, mango or celery on your skin while in the bright sunshine.  It first appears as redness, then – I’m told – will turn to brown and in a couple of months will finally fade away.  So if you’re in the bright sun and squeezing lime into your tequila do take care!

My new schedule seems to be working out pretty well too.  I go to the 9:30 – 10:30 class at Forest Hill Fitness every weekday morning (okay … almost every weekday morning) and now Ashlee – who is the owner along with her husband Pat – has also given me a program of exercises to do on my own to strengthen and lengthen the muscles which support me.  Ashlee used to work for the Ontario Arts Council but 11 years ago started her own fitness business; she’s great.  It’s such a wonderful place.  There’s friendliness and laughter.  There’s serious information about muscle groups and what we’re trying to accomplish.  The music is okay – unlike so many gyms where the music alone is enough to make me stay home.  My favorite class right now is the Pilates ball class that Fiona does on Thursday mornings; she’s so encouraging and supportive and never makes me feel like a clutz; all so important when undertaking this hard hard work.   I’ve lost 6 pounds and am already starting to feel stronger (that’s me in the back left-hand corner taking the photo).   True to my New Year’s resolution I’m mostly devoting my mornings to my own health and hopefully, once the renovations are done and everything’s back where it belongs, I’ll be able to devote afternoons to my book.

So life is good right now.  I’m getting healthier.  I’m happy about my relationships with my wonderful children.  I’m making progress – albeit not as much as I’d like – on the book.  I’ve got at least one invitation to speak about social justice in education which I still care passionately about of course.  I’m just starting to get a sense of knowing who I am again and not just feeling much of the time that I’m in a state of constant limbo.  When the Red Cross calls me to respond to a crisis I’m still ready to go so I haven’t given that up at least.

Will this sense of “ahhhh” last?  I’m guessing there’s still some adjusting to do, not that life ever stays the same anyhow.  In my work with gifted students I always stressed that when we’re fortunate enough to be given gifts we need to take responsibility to use them well.  Retirement is certainly a gift, and using it well – making the most of the opportunity it provides – is important to me.

Which of course leads me straight down that hellish path to guilt.  How can I be spending this much self-indulgence time?  Shouldn’t I be spending more of my time trying to make life easier for others?  Will this focus on self keep increasing until I don’t care about others?  This all worries me of course because it feeds right into all of my criticism about people who look after only themselves while ignoring the needs of others less fortunate than them.

Still and all – I’m going to stick to this until I feel strong and healthy again.