"There she is" I thought when I turned the corner. I had been on the lookout for her and finally saw her. She was the woman I had seen walking a twin stroller everyday in my neighbourhood when I was pregnant. It was May, Livi was less than two months old and it had finally gotten nice enough to start going for walks. And I had hoped to run into her. She had a head of thick raven black hair, olive complexion and wore styles telling of the old country. I wondered where she was from, knowing she must be a grandmother, here for a short time to help with the twins. She had a devoted, determined way about the way she walked those kids everyday. The more often I saw her, the more curious I became. And there she was...only a block ahead of me now. She was doing a good clip herself so it took a few blocks to catch up. Our sidewalks are wide enough for only one stroller, so I was on the road. "Hi" I called out to her when we were side by side. She looked at me, returned my social grace, looked ahead and resumed her daily walk. I was disappointed. She didn't want to chat for only one of two reasons, I thought. She was not interested in making friends while she was here, or the more likely, didn't speak English. Being a European immigrant, I am naturally curious about other Europeans which she very apparently was. I was dying to know from where....perhaps close to the Czech Republic where I grew up. When she had to cross the road, I pushed my stroller up to hers and motioned that I would like to see the kids she was strolling, as one last effort to reach out. Twin boys, fraternal, one year older than Livi. She looked inside my bassinet and was thrilled to see a girl. "Elena" she introduced herself....."Romania". And there it was. "No English" she said with a smile. I waved my hand and said "Czechoslovakian". And so we walked together. Our chatter took off with the the flavor of two old friends getting to know each other again. By the time we got to the next block, I learned that the boys were her son's and the result of IVF. One try in Calgary didn't work, so they went to Denver. And here they are. Michael and Lukas. I burst out laughing, telling her that was my journey with Olivia, exactly. What were the chances. Turns out she knew more English than she bashfully let on, and between my Slavic roots, the Italian I recently learned and the French I remember from school, we were able to get along just fine. She was here for six months, hopefully extended to one year, to babysit the twins. Her and her husband were living with her son and his wife who have been in Canada for 7 years and are both Engineers. In Romania was her other son and his wife who have a little boy and were expecting. A mother of two boys and a grandmother of three boys, "Espiro" a girl she said with a smile. When we strolled by her house to say good bye, she put her hand on her chest and said "my pleasure". I saw her walking again the next day when I drove to the store. She stopped me and handed me an adorable bonnet she crocheted for Olivia the night before. She was special, like I had always known. And so began a friendship that completely altered everything I thought I knew about motherhood, friendship and myself.
The summer was filled with friendly knocks on my door with offerings of fresh vegetables from her garden, or something she baked or knitted, followed by a stroll with the kids under the canopy of trees in our neighbourhood. I would often stop by her place after Livi's morning nap, enjoying Romanian hospitality shaded by an enormous apple tree in their yard. (She saw me picking the apples off the branches, and started bringing apples over everyday). Livi would nap or watch the boys play in silent wonder. I would bring my iPad along, packing a Romanian Translator app, to help with the gossip. I was so tickled by that language. Knowing a Slavic and a Romantic language enabled me to understand a good chuck of what she said, as Romanian is partly both. Lacing as much as she could with English and using more animation than normal, we never had a problem getting each other. As a matter of fact, the effort of understanding and being understood was a very welcome challenge and in part a core reason why our friendship was so much fun. I enjoyed learning as much Romanian as I could and sat back in wonder at how much English she worked at absorbing. People wondered how it is that we could be friends when there is such a language barrier. Funny....I have a much worse language barrier with some people who speak perfect English. We got each other, and shared many laughs, sometimes, with only one word spoken.
Then the hammer fell. During the summer Elena announced to me, very sadly, that her son will be separating. It's amicable and will happen in the fall when he finds a place to live. She will live with him to help with the boys while her husband goes back to Romania at the end of September and will wait there for her return the following March (now). After a family dispute that ended badly in early September, the separation was on. Elena, her son and husband moved out of the house and into a two bedroom basement apartment also not far from where I live. This new arrangement posed much disappointment and heart ache for Elena, as she was stuck in a basement apartment by herself all day, no longer watching the boys full time...only on weekends....and she could no longer walk over for a leisurely visit. It was too far in the cold. But somehow....we made it work.
They didn't have a phone line, so winter was spent planning one visit at a time, either ahead of time, texting her son or calling her neighbour. She would romance me with that old fashioned European cooking that I miss so much. We even exchanged a couple of choice recipes. After lunch, I'd take her shopping or running errands with Livi and I. I loved her company and she was brilliant with Livi, who was always over the moon to see her. She treated Livi like her own, always full of hugs, kisses and loving chatter in Romanian. Livi would smile, laugh and give herself to Elena as freely as she did to me or Stef. When the three of us were together, she had Livi under her wing the whole time. . A retired kindergarten teacher and a grandmother of infant twins, she had AMAZING energy, patience and tenacity with kids. I wish I could play with Livi the way she does......she had an incredible imagination. It wasn't long until we simply felt like family. She often told me that I am like a daughter to her..... and an angel....someone sent to her to be a friend and help her cope with the hardship her situation here had become. I felt the same way...it was wonderful to have fun with a friend and help with Livi at the same time.
I introduced her to the many joys of living in a Canadian town, including ethnic cuisine (which includes Starbucks). "Interesant" she gave a nod to her butter chicken while enjoying Indian food for the first time at 61 years old. Being a genius with a crochet hook, I got her some work crocheting hats and mitts for two childrens' stores. She liked the extra money, which she was quick to spend at Value Village on the boys. It's basically a large indoor garage sale, where the items are donated by the general public....people too busy to have their own garage sale. A place of wonder for her, as garage sales don't exist in Romania. She called it "Vilue Village" and we went every Tuesday, because of the senior's discount. I admit......I started having fun there. Livi loved all the stuff to look at and as for clothes, shoes and toys for kids...it was amazing what people dropped off. Sometimes practically new stuff, for next to nothing. The dollar store was also a frequented stop. We had a good laugh at Dollarama at Christmas time. She picked up a festive place mat, pointed to Santa Clause and said "Santa Clock". It's an inside joke til today. For Christmas, I got her a coffee cup with clocks on it. To remember Santa Clock and her time with Livi and I.
I'll never forget the time she introduced Livi to chocolate. Lindt Chocolate. We couldn't even get the wrapper out of her hand for an hour.
Shortly before she left, we Skyped her family back in Romania and it was apparent how much she missed them and how happy she will be to be back home....and to see the granddaughter she had 4 months ago...Suria. It made me feel better about saying good-bye, but it didn't make it easier. A week ago, Livi and I joined her family to say our farewells at the airport. I have been in denial about her absence all week, keeping busy with all the things Livi and I love to do together. Every time I see her on Skype now, I realize how far away she it, what she meant to us, and how much I miss her. She is my friend, and Livi's little buddy. She always calls Livi her 'dolce'....her sweet.
