Here lies a sad spot in our yard. You see, not long ago this sad, barren spot was a makeshift RV parking spot.

The barren spot

See? Look! RV in the (once-green) yard!

Parents RV

And who was staying in this RV, you ask?

Parents!

Laura-Jane - Dad and long-time step-mom

Yes, they tootled their way across the entire Canadian countryside from coast-to-coast and ended up on our green grass.

Shirley, Tony, Laura-Jane

My parents are planners. They manage to pack a lot of living into 365 days per year. While my schedule can only seem to handle about one outing per week (if that), they happily gallivant around the globe, hold dinner parties, take in cultured affairs, read interesting books, run companies, and still manage to be phenomenal parents to our large brood.

I didn’t seem to inherit their skills in efficiency and productive multi-tasking, but that’s okay. We love each other and celebrate each others’ differences.

Two paragraphs ago (see, up there!) I mentioned that they were planners. Indeed, they are.

In 2006, when Cameron and I started to get serious about maybe moving from BC to PEI, my parents had already planned to drive from West-to-East coast in their RV in the year 2008. In other words, they were planning on coming to PEI before we even knew that we were going to move here.

When Cameron and I left BC in 2007, my parents waved goodbye from their driveway, mouthing, “We’ll see you in 2008 when we come in our RV!!”

And Cam and I drove away in the infamous red Landcruiser, me crying, crying, crying. (I’d never been away from home like this before, you see.)

I wasn’t sure how home-sick I was going to feel moving 6 000 kilometres away from everyone I know. I was worried that I just wouldn’t be able to handle being so far away from everyone I loved. I love my family. They are my people, my friends, my dear, dear loves. They care. They call. They write. They hug. They support. They smile. They get me. When they look at me they make me feel special. Parents, siblings, almost-in-law-people-who-aren’t-actually-inlaws-but-they-are-all-the-same (ahem, Cam’s parents is what I’m trying to say here), they all wish me well, treat me lovely-like, and I to them. (Or I try anyway!) I am a lucky person. How or why I got to be so lucky I will not know. Perhaps in a previous life I gave away bread to hungry people.

As mentioned, it was hard for me to drive away from my family when we left BC to move to PEI, but I took comfort in knowing when the next visit was going to happen. Something about the fact that they were already planning a visit made our move seem okay to me. Something about knowing exactly when and where I’d see them again made it so much easier to say goodbye. (Note that I wrote “easier”, not “easy”.)

And how was our 2008 visit?

Delightful. Highlights included:

Putting parents to work!

Dad built shutters and exterior window frames, they both hauled oodles and oodles of firewood for us, and they encouraged us to clean up our terribly messy yard. Thanks to them, our yard is no longer littered with old asphalt shingles. Thank you, thank you.

Food, food, glorious food!

In my world, what is even more delightful than having people help with labourious jobs is having people cook for us. And cook they did. (And do the dishes!!!)

During the days, they worked with us on projects around the house. By evening, we showed up at their RV door, smiling. They’d invite us in for appetizers, which eventually led to us eating every single dinner in their RV for nine nights. And I am talking fine dinners. Dinners involving gourmet cheeses and capers and things of that nature. (Sidebar: My parents are gone and I am eating Mr. Noodles right now.)

I know, we are horrible hosts to have had the guests feed us. BUT we don’t have a kitchen! AND I’m a terrible cook. (Do these excuses suffice?) I think we did have them in to our living room for cookies and tea once. (Am I a bad person?)

Much fun was had by all, and I loved getting to spend such stretches of time with them.

Laura-Jane and her dad

But what wasn’t quite so fun was saying goodbye. No, no fun at all.

Here they are bumping down the driveway for the last time…

Goodbye RV

Have I mentioned that I don’t like goodbyes? Well, consider it mentioned. But, I guess goodbyes aren’t quite so bad when your heart is full.