The Triumphs & Perils of Montreal
Montreal is beyond gorgeous. We could have bi-passed the city on our way to the east coast, but a huge piece of my heart belongs to Leonard Cohen and it was important to me to visit his grave and pay my respects.
The Shaar Hashomayim Cemetery is in a beautiful residential area where palatial old homes stand proudly on heavily treed streets, where poetry whispers through the leaves, and stone walls hold long histories.
We parked against the curb just outside the gates, shadows casting warm shapes across Pearl. Leonard's grave is just inside and easy to spot. I was moved to see the tributes left by others, and I laid my own small stone on his grave, following the old Jewish custom like so many before me had done.
On the day his death was made public, I cried at my dining room table. I tried to explain to my children why he was so precious to me. I tried to share the reason his words have power; how when I read them I feel like I’m being seen - not just to my soul, but right to my guts. How I curled myself around his final album - the one he recorded from his death bed - the one where he was too weak to even fully sit up - and I let his pain leaks over me and I accepted it as his final love letter to me. But the thing is, there is no final. Because he is forever. Heaven may have brought his soul a beam to travel on, but I’ll stand in his stead, daring the boldness of joy in the face of mortality.
This detour added hours to our day of travel, further exacerbated by own trip downtime to see the 9-storey Cohen mural painted on the side of a Crescent Street building. Little did we know, but the Montreal Pride Parade was happening at 1pm that day. We tried to get out of town at 12:30 only to discover the street we needed to cross was blocked off for the parade. We were sent on a massive detour.
In short, our seven hour travel day turned into eleven. ELEVEN! 😳
And the roads! Oh, the roads in Montreal! Pearl worked hard there! Not only are there many hills and valleys, but the ruttyness and bumps wreaked havoc on our poor girl! Cupboard boards kept flying open, things were falling, and finally one door ripped right off the hinges - YIKES! Thankfully no one get hit in the head, but it did mean we had to make an emergency hardware store stop for some eye-hooks to try and keep the remaining doors intact.
"Vanlife!" Zander would say, every time somethings new crashed open. We kept a good sense of humour about it all. And now we're having conversations about rebuilding all the storage inside. But that's a story for another time.
Would we go back to Montreal again? OH YES! Our few hours within the city limits proved that it's a beautiful city worth a much longer perusal.
The Shaar Hashomayim Cemetery is in a beautiful residential area where palatial old homes stand proudly on heavily treed streets, where poetry whispers through the leaves, and stone walls hold long histories.
We parked against the curb just outside the gates, shadows casting warm shapes across Pearl. Leonard's grave is just inside and easy to spot. I was moved to see the tributes left by others, and I laid my own small stone on his grave, following the old Jewish custom like so many before me had done.
On the day his death was made public, I cried at my dining room table. I tried to explain to my children why he was so precious to me. I tried to share the reason his words have power; how when I read them I feel like I’m being seen - not just to my soul, but right to my guts. How I curled myself around his final album - the one he recorded from his death bed - the one where he was too weak to even fully sit up - and I let his pain leaks over me and I accepted it as his final love letter to me. But the thing is, there is no final. Because he is forever. Heaven may have brought his soul a beam to travel on, but I’ll stand in his stead, daring the boldness of joy in the face of mortality.
This detour added hours to our day of travel, further exacerbated by own trip downtime to see the 9-storey Cohen mural painted on the side of a Crescent Street building. Little did we know, but the Montreal Pride Parade was happening at 1pm that day. We tried to get out of town at 12:30 only to discover the street we needed to cross was blocked off for the parade. We were sent on a massive detour.
In short, our seven hour travel day turned into eleven. ELEVEN! 😳
And the roads! Oh, the roads in Montreal! Pearl worked hard there! Not only are there many hills and valleys, but the ruttyness and bumps wreaked havoc on our poor girl! Cupboard boards kept flying open, things were falling, and finally one door ripped right off the hinges - YIKES! Thankfully no one get hit in the head, but it did mean we had to make an emergency hardware store stop for some eye-hooks to try and keep the remaining doors intact.
"Vanlife!" Zander would say, every time somethings new crashed open. We kept a good sense of humour about it all. And now we're having conversations about rebuilding all the storage inside. But that's a story for another time.
Would we go back to Montreal again? OH YES! Our few hours within the city limits proved that it's a beautiful city worth a much longer perusal.
0 comments
This is a positive space. Please be kind. 😘