That third Monday of February was just another typical Ole Winter’s day.
Nothing out of character, it was always be one of those times when I avoided answering the door lest my face is lashed by a sudden blast of Arctic wind, which could be worse than being startled by a jolt of static electricity.
Answering the phone was also avoided lest I be called to a seniors’ coffee-and-muffin confab at a nearby fast food stop that I could only reach through a sidewalk laden with snow either vaporizing or solidifying into hard slippery ice, while loaded with a shirt and layers of heavy clothing on my aching spine.
On many shivering occasions, I likewise avoided holding back an iota longer when the call of nature beckoned every now and then without much of a honk from a wild bladder.
Being comfy under a warm blanket while finger-leaping from History to Discovery to National Geographic channels to the Weather Network – a bowl of potato chips and/or Boy Bawang and soda within reach — was the kind of bed-ridden dream a senior like me desired to have and to hold, from this day forward … whatever.
*****
That third Monday of February was just another typical cold and wintry day. Or so I thought.
Call it fate. Call it destiny. Call it irritating and pesky.
I was simply annoyed, having forgotten to remember that I had an early date, like an hour after sunrise.
The familiar rhythmic rap hit the door. I was roused out of bed, drew the locks and sleepily peeked out.
Lo and behold! Waiting and all bundled up were my brothers Sonny and Jing and sister-in-law Lucy, ready for a 40-minute or so mid-winter outdoor hike to the Thomson Memorial Park (Brimley and Lawrence in Scarborough), a coffee break and the trek back home, as planned the night before.
But under a chilling minus eight Celsius ground temperature, deceptively candy-coated and enveloped by a sun that shone brightly in clear skies?
Really, it was a good sight outside; but not a good feel.
Feeling bad became clearer some 750 meters past Trudelle St., along Danforth Road going north to Lawrence Ave. East. I felt my legs stiffen and my knees began to wobble, seeking to end my “brisk hike.”
Alarm bells rang when I literally gasped for bread — no breakfast yet!
He or she is right – that person who said that the spirit is willing but aging will definitely catch up and make its precise homerun and specific touchdown in due time. Please, no fancy slam dunks.
While I sat and rested on a bench in a bus stop shed, Jing called Bong, my daughter, and asked her to pick me up. Bong came and gave me two chewable aspirins. Lucy and I got into the car, buckled up and told Sonny and Jing to enjoy their merry stroll to the park, where we all would meet.
*****
The thought that the third Monday of February would just be another typical cold and wintry day started with me. There would soon be five of us wondering if such would be the case.
About an hour later, Sonny and Jing joined me, Lucy and Bong near the fenced and spacious off-leash facility for pet dogs inside the 42-hectare Thomson Memorial Park.
We all marvelled at how Torontonians loved and took great care of man’s best friend. Especially awed and absolutely feeling quite jealous about how Canadians treated pets were Lucy and Jing, who had welcomed golden retrievers to their homes in the Philippines.
It was genuine fascination to see the wide variety of canine breeds and profiles in the dog park. They came in different colors, shapes and sizes. All over the snow-covered facility, they sniffed, raced, energetically cavorted and had pure playful fun. They were well-bred. Gnarling and growling issues were unheard of.
The diversity was picturesque; the community, inspirational; the caring and sharing, exceptional.
Human friends supervised their trained presence and stood ready to administer a much-deserved pat on the head or a hug, a tasty treat and, in rare moments, the plastic poop picker.
*****
Sensing that no one was mulling over a much-coveted sip of hot coffee, I led Lucy, Sonny, Jing and Bong across the park’s hilly and snow-blanketed children’s playground for a shoe snow-dip.
It might make the third Monday of February just another typical cold and wintry day. Also, the path was the quickest way to the Scarborough Museum.
The four were amazed by the huge historical insight the museum offered them. Run by the City of Toronto, the museum had been highlighting the life of farming settlers in Scarborough in the 1800s, the area’s growth and its emergence as a major suburb in the 20th century.
Museum employees and volunteers wearing period dresses gave the four and other visitors a tour of the Cornell House, the McCowan Log House, the Kennedy Gallery, and the Hough Carriage Works, four significant buildings that were restored and moved to the museum between 1962 and 1974.
Then there was hot home-made potato soup served in a cup at the Cornell House and yummy scones for the taking at the log cabin. Jeez! The prospects of hot coffee and a blueberry muffin have just been vaporized.
Aside, camera lenses clicked incessantly, capturing both aesthetic and historic images of the Scarborough Museum and the park’s vicinity, and recording how everyone enjoyed and appreciated Toronto’s hospitality.
*****
Finally, the signal to go homeward-bound was given. It was nearly noon, and my belly had started rumbling. Delighted, I knew that the third Monday of February would end as just another typical cold and wintry day.
No more return hike, as we all buckled up in Bong’s car. While cruising, Bong opted for a lunch stop at a Chinese restaurant near Eglinton and McCowan. As fast as it was announced, aborting the lunch stop was faster after Bong’s phone rang and we were told to proceed to nearby McCowan Park, where my son Francis and wife Mylene and my grandchildren Zoe and Zarah were going. My sister Marib would be joining the group too.
Did I say that I firmly believed in Murphy’s Law? Was the third Monday of February seriously just another typical cold and wintry day? Soon enough, ten people would be trying to figure things out.
*****
At McCowan Park, a lot of people, many of them children, strolled about. Many were skirting around the ice skating rink; some were watching a mini-concert; others laced up to slap the puck at the hockey rink. Cars came in went out of parking spaces. People were trying to enjoy the sunny but chilly weather. The hot chocolate booth helped.
Two police cruisers and a number of uniformed officers were nearby for emergencies.
Sonny, Jing, Lucy and Zarah caught up with Officer Bedi who engaged them in fluent Tagalog conversation. He and a fellow officer even showed them in and around a police cruiser for a photo opportunity.
Francis and Zoe went to practice hockey moves. Later, Zarah went tobogganing at the nearby icy slopes, Mylene, Lucy, Evelyn and Marib at her tail.
Several tents also dotted the walkway between the hockey rink and a building. That was where I met a friendly young lady who suddenly greeted me with a big smile. I thought she would be asking for directions, for which I had no specific answers because I am not from or even proximate to the park. Only when she introduced herself and shook my hand did I know that she is Member of the Provincial Parliament Doly Belgum, who sponsored part of the McCowan Park event and who had an orange tent where aides gave out info materials on Scarborough Southwest that she represented.
Thirty years young, she gave me a quick insight on what she stood for on issues in the Ontario parliament. As they say, the first impression lasts. Sadly, I belong to another political riding in Scarborough, but I appreciate the work she has done to make McCowan Park a fun place to be that day.
*****
Soon enough, it was time to leave the park and have that sumptuous although late lunch. It was a Chinese restaurant at Midland. We invited cool senior Uncle Bong to join us, but he respectfully declined saying that he could no longer tolerate the difficulty of bundling up.
In a few minutes, my wife Evelyn and two grandsons Gabriel and Raphael joined us. Then, there were twelve of us, Sonny having left earlier to attend to stuff.
Wait, what? That was nearly the whole family gathered in one long table. I know. It had been a long time since.
*****
The outing did not end with the late lunch.
Our tummies filled, we all rode back to Thomson Memorial Park, where Marib, Jing and Lucy tried out their hilarious toboggan experiences as they joined the children in speeding downhill.
Just among us: A few of the adults got stuck to the ground and had a hard time moving down the slope due to heavy weight. The red flag was up most of the time.
Before darkness set in that day, we went home, tired but happy that we spent quality time together.
As I was to cover myself with a warm blanket to get a wink, my grandson asked me: “Lolo, can we do another happy Family Day like what we had today?” I replied: “Certainly! How about tomorrow and every day?
The third Monday of February, after all, never was another typical cold and wintry day.
Meantime, Good Night. #####