With grandchildren, however, there isn't the chafing that can result from living together day in and day out, so every get-together is a celebration and fun. We can do all those things with grandchildren that we carefully avoided as parents, like buying candy or extravagant toys, then drop them back with their parents to pick up the pieces. It is sheer joy and no responsibility. And because they don't live with us, grandchildren don't see all the flaws in us that their parents know so well — so they can just worship us for what they think we are. It's great.
When it became clear that we had the financial support to make the television series based on my book The Sacred Balance, Amanda McConnell had the brilliant idea of including Tamo, both to represent me as a child and as a reminder that the next generation had to be included in our perspective. Although I had taken Tamo when he was younger to experience seaweed camp in Gitga'at territory, I was nervous about spending so much time with him alone. “What do I do to keep him entertained?” I wondered. As an enticement on our first shoot, I met him in Florida and took him to Universal Studios, where we shared some incredible rides and had a delightful three days together. He was a wonderful companion and performer throughout the filming.
Laura chose to attend Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario, where she majored in psychology. I was delighted when she fell in love with and later married Peter Cook, a fellow cartoonist on the school paper and also a psychology major. Peter made Laura laugh and drew her out as a personality. Jonathan, their son, is a beautiful child who was found to have suffered oxygen deprivation at birth and has cerebral palsy, a debilitating problem of varying severity, depending on the area of the brain that is damaged. Jonathan has severe problems, will probably never walk, and though blind, he apparently has developed an alternate neural pathway that enables him to recognize symbols and patterns and actually to read.
What has been so impressive and humbling to me has been the parenting of this heroic young couple, Laura and Peter. They are magnificent parents, pouring love and energy into developing Jonathan's capabilities to the maximum. As my grandson has constrained their world and activities, success and joy have come from struggle and incremental achievements. I have often pondered how strong I would be were I faced with a severely disabled child, whether I would be up to the job. By their actions, Laura and Peter demonstrate the good and the potential that I hope are in all of us when adversity intervenes.
Troy spent many years trying to figure out his relationship with me, but he stayed very close to my father, moving in with him for several years. As we have become close again (thank goodness for e-mail), I wonder where he's going in a life still evolving. Like many younger men today, he has chosen not to follow the high-pressure, competitive path that was the model of a “successful” male when I was younger. And as a result, in so many ways, he has led a more varied, interesting life than I have.
Severn and Sarika are out of the nest but still strongly attached to the family. It is wonderful to have them spend weeks at Tangwyn with boyfriends in tow. Horizons for the girls seem limitless compared with what was expected for Tara's generation of women.
After graduating from Yale University in 2001, Severn traveled for two years and gave inspirational speeches to adult and youth groups across North America. She then decided to go back to graduate school to study ethnobotany and is now working with Nancy Turner at the University of Victoria; through Sev, Tara and I are vicariously learning about the exciting discoveries of aboriginal gardening along the west coast.
Although as children of a faculty member my children could have attended UBC without paying tuition, I had informed all of them I would pay for their postsecondary school education, but they would have to take it outside B.C. because I believe being away from home is half of what this experience is about.
I had urged Sarika to take one of the acceptances she received from Mount Holyoke College and Smith College in Massachusetts, the two women's colleges near my alma mater, Amherst. But in the end she decided against an all-female school and went to the University of California at Berkeley to study marine biology. Now, through her, I enjoy learning about fish that have so long been important in my life. Tara and I have offered to be her research assistants any time.
All of my children have become vibrant, interesting human beings, all of them committed environmentalists and contributors to society. If my children and their children know anything, I hope it is that they have my unconditional love and can always depend on that.
WHAT IS THE MEANING of life? Although I'm an elder, I haven't come close to answering that question. The 1960s were all about enjoying the moment. I remember students having a confrontation with faculty at UBC and one of the leaders who was challenging professors, marks, and classes saying life is about “fun” and university was irrelevant because it wasn't fun. For me, life has been and continues to be about work. I find it impossible to live in the present and to simply relish the joy of the moment. Life for me seems to be all about responsibility and the need to fulfill obligations. It hasn't been fair to Tara, or my children or grandchildren, but a sense of duty and being busy has taken me away from them, even when I am physically with them.
I have been a pushover for certain kinds of requests for help — from underdogs, like a woman in Woodstock who had struggled for years to galvanize concern about local environmental issues, so I helped her by going and giving a speech that raised money and support for her. I hate it when I hear stories of bullies, like the owner of a marine aquarium in the Niagara region who took a small group of people to court for handing out leaflets urging people to consider the plight of the captive killer whales. I gave a speech to a sold-out crowd and helped the defendants raise tens of thousands of dollars for legal fees to fight their case. I keep trying to help when appeals come from isolated First Nations communities fighting high suicide rates among youth, problems of contaminated water, or arrogant authorities like provincial hydroelectricity corporations.
But all of these do-good efforts take me away from the family and home, because most of the time I end up visiting and speaking on weekends. It has been utterly selfish for me to put these activities ahead of time spent with family and certainly a conceit to think I can be the one to make a difference.
My devotion to work has also resulted in an almost obsessive need to be punctual. The one thing that creates tension between Tara and me is our totally different approaches to time. She is motivated by a desire to get as much out of every minute as she can, and that means not wasting time by leaving and arriving early, so she pushes things to the very last minute. In contrast, I like to leave lots of leeway for unexpected holdups and am much happier arriving early and waiting. I practically go bonkers when Tara is late. She claims I once allowed so much time for traffic and the unexpected when we left for a movie in West Vancouver that we arrived two hours early. But that is ridiculous and must be untrue. It is true, however, that I am “anal,” as my daughters constantly remind me.
