Leafing through old photo albums this past week, I’ve been reflecting on my life with Marco over the past 28 years. It’s been quite a journey and I thought that since you are following my life without Marco over these next two years, it might be nice to share our past and what brought us to this point.
Marco and I met at Dalhousie University, around 1987. He was doing a PhD and I was working on my Masters. He had traveled from the Netherlands to continue his studies in science, while my travels had twisted and turned through Canada while working in theatre as a props builder and stage manager – Regina to Vancouver to Banff to Calgary back to Vancouver to Niagara-on-the-Lake to Halifax. We met at the Grad House in Halifax during a social event informally known as the ‘wine and sleaze’ party. It was only for new grads like myself, but the scientists always found and photocopied the invitations and came anyway. That evening was the start of our life together – we met during a bar fight while waiting in line for the washroom. That romantic start set the tone. Let’s just say, we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day :).
When we graduated, Marco got a post doc at UBC in Vancouver, so off we went, camping from Halifax to Vancouver in a pup tent, with Ry Cooder stuck in the cassette player. It came on whenever the car started, no matter what we did. I still love Ry Cooder, so does Marco.
We got married in 1990 on the beach in Tsawwassen at the home of good family friends. Freshly caught salmon, homemade beer and wine, bonfire on the beach. It really was our kind of wedding even though our main reason for taking this formal step, was to simplify our lives should we, lacking a common country of citizenship, choose to reproduce…
In 1991 I was pregnant with Casimir (that wedding wasn’t for nothing!). Even though we were married, it was really tough for Marco to stay in Canada following his post doc. There was an influx of immigration from Hong Kong and the system in Vancouver was overwhelmed. We would stand in line very early in the morning, one of us would go get coffee, the lineup stretching for blocks, and hope to get one of the coveted numbers they gave out each day at Immigration. After a few unsuccessful days of that, we decided to move to the Netherlands for awhile and try from there. Casimir was only a few weeks old when we left. It was a difficult time, far more difficult than a 2 year stint apart in Australia, I believe. I remember feeding Casimir in a crowded airport waiting room in Vancouver. There were no seats, so I sat in the bathroom beside a toilet, fed him and cried. I know my Mom shed many tears as we left on our journey with her new grandson. I didn’t think I could handle it either.
We lived with Marco’s parents for six weeks – they didn’t speak much English, I spoke no Dutch and I was a new and insecure mother. I came to love them very much, but those were difficult weeks. Marco found work at the Heinrich Heine University Hospital in Duesseldorf, Germany and after a relentless search for a place to live there (all the while carting our tiny baby with us in the snuggly, on buses, trains, and the schwebebahn – a suspension railway), we conceded defeat – no vacancies and so very expensive. After many days of this we caught a train into the Netherlands and decided that the first town we hit, we would live there, close to the Dutch/German border and Marco would commute to work. We quickly found a home and Marco began what would be a 5-year long daily commute of 3 1/2 hours to a job he was very unhappy with. While the first two years were hard for me, for Marco every year was difficult except when he would get on the train at the end of day to come home to Venlo
and his little family. A few months after we arrived in Venlo, I discovered I was pregnant and on February 5 (23 years ago) I gave birth to a lovely baby girl, Marieke. I have so many happy memories of my time in Venlo. While I didn’t have full time work there, I taught English to seniors at both the Volksuniversiteit and in my home. I took more art classes – life drawing and sculpture. In fact, I met a good friend Mariette, at a sculpture workshop in a monastery and her family became very close to us. I would go to their studio with my two babies – Casimir would play with clay, Marieke would sleep in her little car seat while I created wonderful raku pottery pieces. That was my sanity through those sleep-deprived early years.
While we really loved the Netherlands, I did miss Canada and Marco needed to find a better place to work. After 5 years of making wonderful friends, becoming close to Marco’s parents and sisters, he was offered a job in Winnipeg at the National Research Council. We were ecstatic, but torn – no more bike rides through the forest, visits to the markets, cosy dinners with Oma and Opa. I made many friends with whom I’m still close today and it was hard to say goodbye. There was a lot we were leaving behind. I love the Netherlands in a way that is so deep I can’t explain. But I also love Canada.
After being back in Canada for 19 years, I can still speak Dutch – a bit rusty, but I can still do it. Our return to Canada in 1996 did not signal the end of our moving. The job at NRC lasted only a year and a half, then we were off to Saskatoon for 4 years. Each time I would find another non-profit organization to pour my heart into. Finally, in 2001 we moved back to Winnipeg and shot some roots. Winnipeg has been good to our family, but the loss of Marco’s job signaled another opportunity for change, which, I think we’ve determined is almost always a good thing.
And so here we are, on this new journey, knowing that we have many other journeys behind us and that each has taught us something special. This one will too. In less than 3 weeks, I’m off for my first visit to see Marco and I know it will be a great adventure.
As I sit here, exactly 23 years after the birth of Marieke, I remember in awe, the amazing journey we have had so far, the beautiful family that has been created through our experiences, both the good times and the not so good times, and I will be forever grateful as I look ahead towards many more journeys. Whether they are those I experience alone or with Marco, I won’t stop taking them.
“20 years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the one’s you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” -Mark Twain
cindy rublee - living without beethoven 