NESTING

Hello. Goodbye.

These words have as much meaning in my relationship with Evan as “I love you.” 

Being a long-distance relationship, our time together always has a beginning and end date. It can feel unsettling. A perpetual sense of “just visiting.” To be sure, there is a positive side to that. It’s like being Fun Dad who has only weekend custody after a divorce. His time with the kids means pizza for dinner, extra time playing videogames and no early bedtimes on account of it being a school night.

 

My stints with Evan are chock full of good times. When he arrived Thursday night, we talked of bike rides, looking into a harbour cruise and maybe catching a view of the city from the tower downtown. Lots of Whee! Time in We Time. 

 

Yes, we went for the bike rides. How could we not with rare April sunshine in Vancouver and so many springtime plants in bloom? But the cruises don’t begin until May and the tower idea fizzled out. Someday. 

 

It would have been easy to pack the extended weekend with other inherently fun things. This was especially possible since, due to a break in our relationship, Evan hadn’t visited me at my place since January 2024. Since COVID lockdown back in 2020, I’ve become an expert in touristy and “secret” things to do in Vancouver. I pack in a lot of Whee! Time even when it’s just Me Time.

 

But our visit took on a different tone. I’m highly challenged in terms of doing handyman tasks. Whether it’s lack of confidence, lack of knack or perpetual procrastination, everyday fix-its don’t happen. Due to a VERY LARGE blind spot, I don’t see what needs to be done. 

 

This photo overwhelms me.

As an architect and interior designer, Evan is highly visual. He sees everything. We’ve spent much of our visit doing typical weekend tasks. We bought a new wall sconce to replace a hideous one that’s been in my stairway for the entire two and a half years I’ve lived in my loft, partly due to my indecision regarding which one to buy and partly because I knew I’d never be able to install it myself. (Fear of electrocution.) We bought a new mirror to make my place look more open. We got a bike rack for my car so both our bikes can join us on adventure weekends. We spruced up my balcony with new plants and removed some of the clutter that finds its way to such a space. I bought a funky painting for the freshly lit stairwell. 

 

We drove my car to more places in three days than I typically drive it in three months. (I tend to walk and bike everywhere.) 

 

“I like this,” Evan said midway through Saturday afternoon. “We’re nesting.” 

 

How timely. In the tree across the street, two crows spent their weekend coming and going from a nook in the branches as they built their own nest and sounded ominous caws to utter threats to pedestrians passing underneath. That nook, that tree and everything below it was, in their minds, theirs. (Just wait till the babies hatch!)

 

Our weekend of errands was highly constructive and well-coordinated. Everything clicked as we worked together when needed and alongside one another when tasks could be split up.    

As Evan transplanted clematis on the balcony I sliced and diced for our taco bowls that we took to the beach for a picnic where he sketched and I wrote. (Yes, a bit more inherently fun time.) While he fiddled with the wiring for the sconce, I scrubbed smudge marks from the wall where the previous sconce had been. 

 

We crossed off a lot of things, many of which I didn’t even realize were on my To Do list. The time felt intimate; the nest looks more inviting, more functional. 

 

Alas, Evan flies back to Denver later today. We’ll spend two and a half weeks apart once again before meeting up in New York City where he has a conference. No nesting opportunities there. It will truly be more like a Fun Dad weekend. Broadway! The High Line! Shopping!

 

In the meantime, I know our daily FaceTime calls will include me flipping the phone cam so he can see how the clematis is doing, so he can peek at my new painting, so he can remain connected to, not just me, but our Canadian home. 

 

I’ll have to tend to the nest on my own but, as much as it can be possible, I’ll feel his presence in the space as well. Let his return to the roost come much sooner.