Today I settled into my familiar morning ritual—breakfast, coffee, and the "click" of online newspapers—for the first time in two and a half weeks. We spent a family week exploring Vancouver and Tofino, followed by a single day of domestic restoration (laundry, pool laps, gathering coaching gear) before I departed solo for a five-day swim meet in Clovis, California. During those weeks away, I consciously severed my news umbilical cord, scanning headlines on my phone without clicking a single story, focusing instead on the immediate texture of each day. My resting heart rate rewarded this digital detox, and my pre-sleep monkey mind finally quieted.
Our British Columbia adventure loosely followed our honeymoon playbook from twenty-six years ago. When Rob and I first visited Vancouver after our June wedding, gray skies shrouded the city and concealed the mountains rising dramatically across the water. This time, brilliant sunshine blessed every urban day, and we seized each golden opportunity.
From pedaling hotel bikes through the city and around Stanley Park's seawall to playing eighteen holes of pitch-and-putt golf, from lounging in sun-dappled parks to chalking pool cues in a Yaletown bar, our family of five savored every shared moment. On day three, we commandeered a rental car and drove aboard the ferry, playing cards shuffling rhythmically as we voyaged toward Nanaimo on Vancouver Island. The ferry delighted our children—their inaugural car ferry experience—while calm seas sparkled beneath our churn.
From Nanaimo, we wound toward Tofino on Vancouver Island's rainforested western edge. We lost our faithful sun shortly after a pit stop where the three of us braved a river swim outside Port Alberni. The turquoise water revealed every stone on the bottom as Aden, William, and I gasped through the shocking cold, stroking out to the deeper pool before retreating to shore. We changed at the rest stop with chattering teeth and ravenous appetites, perfectly primed for Tofino's promised burger dinner.
Partly clear afternoons blessed our next two days as we hiked Ucluelet's Lighthouse loop, kayaked from Tofino to Meares Island, and wandered the town hunting souvenirs and ice cream. The kayak expedition unveiled wildlife delights: a curious harbor seal surfacing near William's bow close enough for us to hear his breathing's gentle "chuff," two sea otters floating belly-up with paws skyward, four majestic bald eagles, countless orange starfish glowing beneath the surface, and ancient cedar giants that have witnessed a thousand years of coastal storms. The trip brought back vivid reminders of our honeymoon kayak through hundreds of purple starfish and clear jellyfish without a guide and against the tide - an apt metaphor for the journey since.
Rob's birthday graced our final Tofino day, celebrated with post-ride coffee after twenty-five miles cycling to the Rainforest loop and back. Aden crafted a chocolate cake in our "Eagle's Nest" rental kitchen while Rob and Daniel claimed an afternoon beer. Meanwhile, William, Aden, and I took a surf lessons at Cox Beach. The Pacific bit at fifty frigid degrees, but thick wetsuits cocooned our bodies—only my feet succumbed to the chill, undermining my wobbly attempts at balance.
William emerged as our crew's natural, earning delighted whoops from our young British instructor (he did practice earlier this summer in Bali!), while Aden and I managed several triumphant rides from both the whitewater and beyond the break. The sun made a brief, glorious appearance during our session, illuminating the wide beach and gentle swells that provided the perfect backdrop for our final waking hours together.
I'm contemplating my third tattoo after immersing myself in so much First Nations sea creature art—my first was a dolphin adapted from a Haida design discovered during our honeymoon. It would complete a beautiful circle, helping me remember the gifts accumulated across twenty-six years together and the remarkable family we've created.
