(Lindsey)
Lindsey had a whole week off of school for mid-winter break and
since her mother would be teaching skiing lessons at Mammoth all week she
begged Awesomez to let her come to the farm.
“Do you really think you’re up for another one of my
children?” Awesomez asked me over the phone.
“Is that some sort of warning?” I asked. “Actually, I just
hope Lindsey isn’t bored. I don’t have anything big planned,” I explained.
I went to Seattle with Nick to pick her up while my dad took Henry to gymnastics. Everyone was
excited to see her, especially her brother.
("The Big-un" Irish was especially happy to see Lindsey)
(Lindsey snuggles The Big Boy - Irish)
During the days Lindsey helped me
with farm chores and errands, during the afternoons she went to gymnastics with
Henry or volleyball with Quinn and saw Nick at night.
She saw Grandpa
Horn teach band, she helped with the judging at one of Henry’s meets and she
met all of Quinn’s friends. She did homework, painted and kept me company.
(Lindsey sets to painting)
(Grandpa Horn talks to the band)
(Henry and Lindsey listen to Grandpa Horn)
(Lindsey flips)
(Lindsey lands)
(Lindsey works with the ring judge)
(Nick - hanging out)
On Saturday while at Henry’s gymnastic meet, Chris turned to
me and said, “We were kind of thinking of driving up to Vancouver tomorrow, you
game?”
“You want to go to the games? The tickets were $600.00 the
last time we checked,” I said.
“Well, we’d like to get into something, Lisa’s checking for
some last minute deals but really we thought we just go up and soak in some
Olympic atmosphere and see what we see,” he offered.
I thought about it, I’d had plans we were finally going to
try and go get Petite, but that could be postponed. Then there was the problem
of Nick. He couldn’t seem to follow any of the rules at home or school so he
was not going to be allowed to join us. And then I wasn’t sure if Lindsey even
had her passport. We couldn’t go without Lindsey. Luckily, Lindsey’s brilliant
mother had the foresight to pack her passport. We were good to go.
The next morning, we met the Donaldson clan at Nugent’s Corner
and all piled into their van. Henry had hurriedly painted red U-S-A posters to
take with us “just in case”. The paint was still wet so we put them on the
dashboard to dry and headed north.
Crossing into Canada is one of my least favorite things to
do, but if we wanted to go to the Olympics, we had no choice. I prepared the
kids. “Now remember, these people have not one ounce of humor in their bodies.
You don’t kid, joke or in any way say something sarcastic. Don’t get nervous,
just speak if you’re spoken to, don’t add any information, just answer the
question being asked”. I instructed.
“And don’t forget your name!” Lisa added.
“What?” Lindsey questioned.
“Henry got so nervous once, he forgot his name,” Quinn
informed her.
“It was just enough of a hesitation for the guy to think I’d
kidnapped him” I said dryly, giving my child a look.
We approached the border and took a collective breath. If
the kids didn’t believe me before, they did afterward. Lindsey was grilled and
questioned until she was close to a nervous wreck. She answered everything
calmly as the Canadian border guard checked all the missing child reports.
“Who makes you breakfast?” He looked at her seriously. I
wondered what she was gong to say. I hadn’t really made a real breakfast.
“She does,” Lindsey said pointing to me.
“Do you know her name?” He asked seriously.I worried she was going to forget my name.
“Denise,” Lindsey answered. Whew.
“Do you have a note from the mother?” He asked me.
“No. I don’t, but she did provide the passport,” I offered.
“You see where I’m going with this?” He asked.
“Yes Sir and I’d be glad you were asking these questions if
it was my child,” I said knowing I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but feeling as
though I somehow looked guilty.
“Do you have any proof of your flight?” He asked. And with
all the excitement of a contestant on “Let’s Make a Deal.” Lindsey answered
“Yes! I have my airline ticket!” She searched her pursed and
offered him her ticket. He let us pass.
"That was certainly the golden ticket, it’s what tipped the
scales in our favor. Way to go Lindsey,” Chris praised her.
“You handled that beautifully,” Lisa added, “Denise do you
make breakfast?”
“I know, I was wondering if Cheerios™ and bagels counted,” I smirked.
“It’s a good thing you warned me,” Lindsey said depleted.
From there we made our way onto the King’s Highway and set
our course.
“How long until we get there?” Phoebe asked somewhat
predictably.
“I have no idea, Honey. You act as though I’ve been there.
We’re just figuring it out as we go,” Chris informed her as the glare of
Henry’s USA posters baked in the sunshine reflecting on the windshield.
(Henry's U S A sign reflecting)
We parked and joined the party that was Vancouver. Walking
down the packed streets you could feel the goodwill. We formed a buddy system,
I took pictures of the kids in what they were wearing – just in case – and we
set up our if-you-get-lost plan.
(Canada hats)
“Look there’s Italy!” Henry called out.
(Italy)
“And Russia!” Lindsey yelled as she saw a red jacket walk
by.
“I want one of those USA hats,” Phoebe announced.
“I want a pin,” Lisa said, “I didn’t get one in ’84 when I
went to the equestrian events and I really want one this time”.
“I want tickets to an event,” Henry insisted. “I don’t care
what it is, I just want to go to something”. And so did I. So Lisa, Henry,
Phoebe and I took up the hunt as Quinn, Lindsey and Chris meandered slowly captivated
by the street carnival. Every time I turned around I couldn’t help but count
the kids. I felt like I was on a field trip.
(Bronze-colored street performer)
(Broadcast booth in Robson Square)
(Free zip line over the city - 6 hour wait)
(Zip line launch next to the flag)
(painted Canadians)
(a building in Vancouver)
(flags fly everywhere)
(the Dutch)
(Olympic mascot)
(Lindsey clowns)
(Sweden)
(Nike™)
(yeah for our team)
(the private family entrance for competitors relatives - dreams were being dreamed)
(Henry, Lindsey, Quinn, and Phoebe)
(Vancouver 2010)
(Everyone has spirit)
(Henry, me, Phoebe, Lisa, Quinn and Chris)
“1-2-3-where’s Lindsey?” I asked.
“I’m right here,” she said practically under my arm.
Not knowing where we were going, we followed the crowd
across Vancouver in a hurried pace. We didn’t know where but we knew we had to
get there soon if we wanted tickets. Henry approached every scalper he passed,
but they were mostly buying not selling.
“Your mother would be crying by now,” I told Lindsey as she
caught up.
“I know, right? She’d still be back at the car. She walks so
slowly,” Lindsey said laughing.
“I’m so happy to hear you use an adverb,” I gushed.
“You’re such a teacher,” Lindsey smirked as we were in a
half jog along the street.
“Why are we going so fast?” Lindsey asked.
“’Cause we might miss something.”
(en route to the ticket office)
(Blast we were behind Captain Canada)
Lisa, Phoebe, Henry and I broke into a run, moving ahead of
the pack as we approached the Olympic ticket window. I knew my sister and we
both were thinking these people walking near us might oust us out of our
potential Olympic experience. We got to the line and eventually to the window.
“Is there anything? Anything within a modest budget?” she asked
the ticket agent. “We need seven seats”.
“Seven? Wow. Let me look”. And she looked and she looked and
we waited anxiously. “I have seven seats to women’s curling tonight”.
“Curling,” Lisa turned to the kids now surrounding us, “Do
you guys want to go to curling? Should we spend the money?”
“Hell Yes!! I’ll go to anything,” Henry yelled.
"Henry you gave up swearing for Lent," I reminded him.
"Is Hell a swear word?"
"YES!" Lindsey said.
“I don’t know anything about it, but I’m up for
curling,” Quinn agreed.
“Is that the one where they use the little brooms?” Phoebe
asked.
“Yes, it is, does that sound ok?”
“Sure it’s the Olympics,” Phoebe agreed.
“I’m with Henry I’ll go to anything,” Lindsey answered.
“Heck yeah, whooo! hooo! Curling!!! Let’s do it!” Chris
cheered in great zeal. As we stood there basking in our Olympic triumph we
noticed a family standing nearby somewhat despondent. They obviously didn’t get
any tickets. Noticing them, Lisa
walked up and tried to help.
“Did you try getting seats for curling?” Lisa asked the
woman. As it turned out they were from Orcas Island and no she hadn’t tried
curling. So she got back in line and scored 5! Happily, we all struck up a
conversation before departing for the curling match? Curling meet? Curling
game? Curling event? Or curling tournament? We weren’t sure.
(proof we are really going)
(Lisa at the ticket office)
Tickets in hand we were a bit more relaxed and ready to
learn about curling. After riding a train packed like a sardine the Canadian equivalent
of BART where I counted at every stop, “1-2-3-where’s Lindsey?”
“I’m right here,” she said.
(On the train after it thinned)
(Lindsey and Phoebe walk and walk)
(pretty Vancouver)
(Lindsey and Henry- ready to order)
We stopped at a
Chinese restaurant for dinner where the kids had their own chopstick freestyle
event commentated by the Amazing Donaldson. Afterward we set out walking the
rest of the distance to the stadium. I was certainly getting all my steps in
for Weight Watchers I thought.
“You won’t believe it, but a cabbie just asked me where the
stadium is,” Chris laughed as we all continued walking. We walked and we walked
and we walked first down a busy street and then into a residential
neighborhood. There nary a sign marking the route. If it hadn’t for the rest of
the curling crowd we never would have found it.
(Quinn, Phoebe, Lindsey and Lisa on the move)
(lots of details)
(security screening)
(we're in!)
(The Chinese are ready for curling)
Excitedly we went in and found our seats. “1-2-where’s
Henry? He’s not here,” I informed the rest of the confused group.
“He was with us at the entrance,” Lisa reminded me.
“He’s supposed to turn his cell phone on if he’s lost,” Quinn
reminded me.
“Do you think he will?” I asked getting mine out and about
to push the button.
“No,” Quinn and Lindsey answered as we all hurried back on a
sweep of the grounds. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. My father
had filled me with too much child stealing information. My mind sorting through
similar memories looking for a match as I ran. I remembered another time Henry
had disappeared in a public place. It was in Macys when he was two. I was
shopping with my friend, Laura, Phoebe’s godmother. We had just turned our
heads for a moment and he was GONE. Frantically we looked, and eventually found
him hiding in one of the rounders...
