Seawalk
by
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One man's interaction with the West Vancouver Seawalk, its beauty, its early morning cultures. A man seeing and sensing everything from an end-of life perspective.
"He lived adjacent to the Seawalk and walked its length in the early morning hours of as many days as possible. This time of day and the Walk's beauty conspired to create a not-quite-this-world reality.
And it was good.
And it penetrated, this not-quite-this-world sense of reality.
It penetrated and was welcome,
Welcome because it eased the pain of a self in conflict.
A self, seeking to adjust to the realities of diminishing capabilities
A self, seeking to adjust to the realities of a terminal illness."
In a somewhat unique combination of "prose" and "poetry" he shares thoughts, interactions, flashbacks, and "imaginings". All filtered through the lens of the Seawalk's beauty.
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About the Book
For him the SEAWALK had a special significance. Everyone has (or should have) a place, real or imagined, to escape to - to regroup, to regain perspective. For him the SEAWALK was such a place.But it was also something more. Human life is not a simple thing: it seems to be a complex of struggles to survive as an individual organism and to exist as a significant item within a much larger social setting. "Time-Outs" are a necessary consequence, particularly for those who have the luxury and means to escape the routines of their lives. For him the SEAWALK was a readily available "Time-Out". He was in the declining years of his life, struggling to survive the debilitating consequences of illness, and in desperate need of a medium for assessment and reflection. And the the book, SEAWALK, was born.
About the Author
A retired Engineer/Sculpter, living writing about the realities of a terminal illness, his life had not followed an exactly prescribed or expected path. For instance, a hospitalization for back surgery had an unexpected result- he married the night nurse.
His work as an engineer, followed by a growing interest in sculpting, led to several moves within Canada, a three-year stint in the Middle East, and a much longer stay not far from New York City.
He and his wife retired to West Vancouver, Canada to be closer to their two children but his son Gary was killed in 1996 while volunteering at the Indy car race in Toronto and his daughter, following her career path, moved away.
Left with only his life-long companion (his wife) and faced with the realities of failing health, he turned to writing.