Walking Down A Dream

I forgot my gym clothes so I couldn't go to yoga class. So on Wednesday, I decided to get some more steps in. This time, it was a walk from Lansdowne to Spadina and back along College St. There are always changes in new businesses replacing a long-time store or a failed contender. I will limit myself to a handful of observations.

The cheap car-wash at Lansdowne was no more. There will likely be a condo there but it might take a while. Though close to red-hot Dundas St. West, this intersection was always down-at-the-heels. The block from Sheridan to Dufferin was "nicely" gentrified; that is, there was variety (Archi Element, Critter and Co, El Mitote Latin Lounge) and all storefronts were occupied. This doesn't always happen when gentrification kills long-time businesses without replacement. ZEI Pottery (Do Hue, barely-there Cuchara) is the 4th pottery studio I have seen in this part of town. I'm not holding out much hope for them.

Nearer to Ossington, The Carvalo Condos never got its Pusateri but a NoFrills moved in. Krispy Kreme was putting in final touches in a former convenience store. There were too many turnovers in Little Italy and from Bathurst to Spadina to mention. But notably the spot hosting Korean fusion Mashed Bistro, then traditional Korean Riceteria, then a very short-lived breakfast diner, the slightly longer Nile River, was now a Japanese/Korean late-night spot called Cheongju Izakaya. Belly Buster Subs didn't last long at the former Soundscapes record shop. Vegan joint Odd Burger (previously vegan GL) could be on its last legs. Nothing online yet except rumblings though the IRL For Lease sign doesn't bode well.

My reward at Spadina was a slice ($5) from Fresca the best pizza shop in Toronto. It has been more than a year and it was even more bustling. But this meant I didn't get any face-time with the owners. In addition to the young makers putting out pizza, there was a now someone helping in the kitchen. The fresh-faced crowd looked university-age as the high-school teenagers have yet to return from summer vacation. I'm cautiously optimistic that Fresca will be around till at least the end of the decade.

On my return leg, I stopped at Barbershop Patisserie for an assortment of croissant, chausson, brownie, and banana bread ($32.25). They were all delicious as breakfast treats over the next few days. When I was supporting this business during the pandemic, I noticed the owner was slim ("never trust a skinny chef"). I assumed, probably wrongly, that it had to do with the stress of starting a new venture during a tumultuous time. 5 years in, they were perhaps even more slender. Maybe this meant this was their natural size? Because the shop seems to be doing well, now opened daily instead of only a few days a week.

Let It Rain

Dosa Mahal Vegan Box

Less than a month later, I made another trip to The Big Smoke. Monday was pleasantly cool but sunny in both Ottawa and Toronto. A pair of French tourists sitting behind me on the bus talked excitedly about visiting "little New York" and Niagara Falls after their trip to Montreal and Ottawa. Unfortunately, it's forecast to be rainy and cloudy over the next few days. So they might not have good memories about T.O.

I was back in my rental on St Helens. For dinner, I stopped off at Caribbean Queen for a beef patty ($4.50). In May, she was talking about retirement. But now she wasn't planning on retiring any time soon; supposedly it was "actually a vacation" that we talked about. I couldn't say if it was a case of wanting to work or needing to work but she seemed refreshed and cheerful behind the counter. As the patty wasn't quite enough, I also went to Dosa Mahal for a vegan plate (rice + 3 sides). It has increased to $8.85 for takeout (and the masala fries were now $9.99). A large price increase in 5 years but still under $10.

Tuesday morning, I walked a loop from Lansdowne, west along Dundas St. W., and returning on Bloor. It still had some industrial businesses and a few stalwart (Cafe Pho Nho) but the condos and second-generation gentrifiers (Bandit Brewery, The Commoner, Tommy's Wine Bar) were spreading. First generation shops like Dundas Park Kitchen paved the way but haven't lasted. The massive condo complex replacing Loblaws, LCBO, and their large parking lot has not broken ground. 

In another life, this could have been my Toronto neighbourhood because my grandma found an old friend with a room for rent. But 3 decades ago, this area was too derelict for me. I ended my walk at Uncle Sid's Deli for a breakfast wrap ($7.75) of sausage, eggs, and home fries.

Lunch at Ibet Sushi was a combo ($16.50) of 8 pieces of nigiri sushi (mostly salmon) and 8-piece California Roll. No complementary miso soup or salad though. On my way to the dentist, I saw that the 6 new condos at Bloor and Dufferin were starting to have windows and other interior construction. The announced move-in date of 2026 seemed plausible. After my cleaning, which they have inexplicably reduced to 2 units instead of the usual 3, I went to see my friend.

Last time, she was contemplating retirement (perhaps in Morocco) and dealing a slightly lazy brother. Well, the brother has moved out since a week ago. Now she wanted to keep working if possible because she enjoyed interacting with people. In fact, an old customer had hosted her for a few days on her trip to Costa Rica. Given that the vacant 2nd bedroom was only $900/month, I impulsively offered to become her new room-mate. She was totally onboard with that idea.

There were several positives: the price (especially for this city), the location (my old neighbourhood and in my opinion, best area of Toronto), and the possibility. That is, I've been leaning toward semi-retirement instead of full retirement. But exploring 2nd career options seemed more tractable here than in Ottawa. The main barrier preventing my move was the exorbitant rental market in Toronto.

Back at my rental after 241 pizza ($5.50), I thought about 2 major minuses. First, Toronto apartments aren't large as a rule, but this bedroom was tiny. It wouldn't even fit a queen bed; the current layout was a twin with just enough space to sidle past. Yet it had the same general layout as the other more reasonably-sized rooms. But I couldn't recall why from the whirlwind tour. Maybe a large section was taken up by a support column or wall?

Second, the timing was wrong. With the recent passing of my grandma, I couldn't leave my mom right now. We were also relocating so there were practical concerns: packing, cleaning, and many other tasks. It will probably take until November or early next year before I could think about next steps for me. I doubt my friend could wait 2-4 months for a co-tenant.

What I Owe To Others

On Thursday, the family said goodbye to my grandma. Pragmatic as always, she had already bought a no-frills package some 15 years ago from a corporation appropriately named Modest Funeral Alternative Inc. It was to be family-only visitation, no open casket (e.g., no post-portem preparation/embalming), and cremation. However, with 6 living children, we were still required to get a signed agreement from all of them including my aunt in the old country.

So it was a simple set-up: a basic casket, her picture, and flowers from her grand-kids. Her favourite music, or at least songs mostly about her childhood city, played in the background. Without other guests, at first the 1 hour seemed long with the extended family milling around at the back. The youngest great-grandchildren wandered about without a care. But eventually, that time allowed people either alone or in small groups to approach the front in their own time to be with their grief and loss. We did receive some visitors: my grandma's best friend came with her son. At 90, I think some of her tears were also for her ever smaller circle of friends.

Our entire family weren't particularly talkative. My grandma has often said that most of us wouldn't survive back home where you needed hustle to survive. When it was clear no one was going to say any final words, I volunteered despite my usual reticence. But hopefully without coming across as a narcissist, I want to outline my reasons.

Decades ago when I was love-sick for my crush, I dreamt we were in each others' arms watching a sunrise. I woke up, and never having felt such bliss, I shyly told my grandma without going into details. Years later, I reflected at my brother's wedding that this was the few occasions where you could thank people in your life without mawkishness. And with no such ceremony in my future, it seems that some sentiments will remain unsaid. So on this day, even though grandma could not hear my thanks, the rest of the family will understand my gratitude.

Her impact was profound on the greater extended family. My grandfather and her were generous with their time, money, and aid. Several lives and families were changed. But I only briefly touched on that, and focused on 3 stories about her that affected our own families.

The first story: without my uncle who sent care packages home after the war, money to help some siblings escape, and finally sponsorship of the rest, we would all still be back in the old country or at best, scattered throughout the world. I thanked him for his sacrifice but also that it was grandma's effort that laid that foundation. Grandpa never wanted to send his son abroad as a foreign student; the financial burden could cripple the family (there were 7 people left in the household). So it was grandma who figured out all the ad-hoc paperwork by chasing down numerous bureaucrats and friends. At the 11th hour, with the final requirements unsatisfied (money deposited in Canada and a plane ticket), she found an old colleague turned bank manager, and a friend of a friend who was an airline executive. All this without a phone, just dogged legwork.

The second story: during the immigration interview, the agent was dismissive of my mother. My grandma speaking French without a translator was impressive, and so were my relatives who "risked it all" by boat. But a young woman with toddlers? Not likely to succeed in Canada. Without her persuasive words (swallowing her anger and pride), my immediate family would have stayed behind.

The final story: my cousins with kids benefited from help of the parents (nods all around). Imagine how things could have turned out for a single mom with 2 kids, learning a new language, trying to survive in a new country with no work experience. But my grandma was there: babysitting, cooking, doing groceries, and many other domestic work. When we were grown, she helped yet another set of family. Without her, my working-class uncle, aunt-in-law and their kids would have had a rougher 90s and 2000s.

After the cremation service, attended by myself and a few others (only 6-7 were allowed), we went to New Hong Shing for lunch. Grandma would have complained about the waste of money. There was one minor story that I did not tell.

After university, a Mississauga company hired me. They provided a small relocation stipend for a few weeks in a hotel. But I didn't find a permanent place for 3 months. How did I survive? Well, I didn't even have to use the money (actually, I never even billed them for my moving expenses). My grandma had pulled out her address book and asked around. She finally found a 2nd cousin in California whose daughter lived in Mississauga. This distant "auntie" gave me free room-and-board until I found that first apartment. So all my life, my grandma and the rest of my family and clan has made my path easier.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow

On Monday night, my grandmother passed away at home. Since her terminal illness diagnosis, she had progressively gotten weaker each time I visited. Two Fridays ago, she was unable to sit up without help. But we could still talk and she asked me about the band tee I got in Toronto the week before. Last Friday, she barely whispered a few instructions to my mom. Mostly she was in a sedated doze while holding my hand. When my mother returned home on Saturday I was told that a priest will be performing last rites on Monday just in case.

I hadn't planned on going, as I wanted to spend time with her, not stand around reciting prayers. But yesterday after lunch, my mom called to say that things had taken a drastic turn in the morning. According to the palliative doctor, who administered several different injections, it was only a matter of hours. When I arrived, she was no longer aware of her surroundings. Over the course of the afternoon, the whole extended family came: all her children and their children. My cousin who recently moved to Vancouver had booked a last-minute flight and came straight from the airport. The older 4th generation kids didn't come, but 2 of the toddling great-grandkids were there with the parents. Each made emotional good-byes upon arrival then caught up with the rest of the family. I think my grandma would not have minded the chatter even if she herself was never a fan of "gossip".

After last rites, my cousins ordered take-out. My mom and I returned to our apartment. The doctor had left behind multiple doses to last through the night. So perhaps she will make it to another sunrise. But after dinner, my sibling called to say that grandma had stopped breathing. The matriarch of our extended family and the last member of the greater extended family was gone.

On the way home, I thought about several things. First, my mom had lamented to her siblings that, despite several aunts taking turns as well as professional support (PSW, visiting nurses), my grandma's care was hard. For their generation, with fewer (and busier) children, it could be "impossible". Sadly, she's not wrong. My situation will be even more dire as I have no partner or progeny. So I will have to manage all my infirmities alone.

This led to my second thought about MAID. For sure I have to include the possibility in my end-of-life planning. I wondered if my grandma would have chosen it if we did not hide her diagnosis. Even in early July, she complained to me that she usually recovers quickly from an illness. This last month may be nothing compared to friends who have family members with more than a decade of care. Still, given the last few weeks of "indignities", she might have opted to leave while in a relatively healthier state. She was well enough at the end of June to receive my sibling and my nieces after their month-long trip to Japan and the old country. And to lovingly tease him about the many photos of eating food.

Third, without my mother, I would consider going "no-contact" with the rest of the family after this. There is no trauma or negative feelings. It's just that, similar to my old buddies, our interaction has become simply an annual Christmas get-together. Not among themselves, just with me due to my introversion and the age-gap (I'm closer to uncle age to some of my cousins and grandpa age to their kids). Better to let our relationships lapse and be out-of-mind until some decades in the future when they receive something in my will. No great riches but maybe enough for a vacation.

Finally, a possible exception to the previous scenario. If my nieces, in their middle-age some years hence, want to reach out to me about forgotten relatives, then I could share few stories from their great grandma. Maybe details about her own siblings and the "greater" extended family. But my generation has already never had any contact with the latter, so I doubt theirs will care except in a family-tree way. I could even talk about my own great grandmother, what few memories I have, augmented by second-hand tales. A connection through me back to someone from 1899 and forward through them (and their children?) into the 2100s could be affirming. On the other hand, they may not want to bother with the half-forgotten, hermit relative.