When I woke up on our final morning in Grand Forks I sat at the kitchen table in the basement where my Dad and I were staying. For quite some time I sat there silently, listening to the sounds which wafted down from the floor above. I think it would be a cool film, to witness a life unfolding only through sound. The highs and lows of an average morning. The dog running on the hardwood floor. The kids arguing. Parents going to work. The television. The shower. The skink runs.
Wow, I’m such a creeper.
Before we left I got to take a walk around town. I really wanted to visit the Charity Thrift Store. My Dad says it is the cheapest in BC. I expected to find old fabrics and history from the past 50 years but it is closed on Monday (which I suppose is the history and tradition I was seeking). The trip was very enjoyable and I learned so much but it was very different than I expected. I learned so much about my Dad and I’m glad I got to spend some time with him.
Things are not always as we expect, but expectations are made to be broken.