There is not a day that passes by where I do not think of my Rosemary’s outstanding decision to move with our family to Vancouver from Mexico City in 1975. I live a life of almost predictable stability (a tad monotonous) where I do not have to worry about buying dollars or selling them as I would be doing now in my Buenos Aires. I never have to think of bribing anybody as I often did in Mexico. The water that comes out of the tap I can drink safely.

Many people who live in Vancouver often marvel at the scenery of the city. I notice it and particularly when I go in my bike (weather permitting) to Jericho Beach. Some people complain about the lack of culture. I go to many unusual concerts and see cutting edge modern dance because I am in email lists. You can no longer depend on our city’s newspapers for that.

I never have to worry about finances thanks to Rosemary’s financial acumen. While I no longer have a GP I have a very good rheumatologist, cardiologist, urologist, ophthalmologist  and a dentist (who is also an engineer). When I go for a complete blood test mandated by my cardiologist I ask the people who do the test to send it to all my doctors. They all then know of my health at that time.

In short I do not have all the worries about living anywhere else in North America, Central America and South America.

Because I have a large reading habit I can get all of the books I may want in English either at regular bookstores or at MacLeod’s.

My Mexican-made Chevrolet Cruze, which was purchased by my Rosemary (I was told to stay out when she was with the saleswoman), seven years ago has had no (and I repeat, no) mechanical troubles.

In this paradise that Vancouver is for me, there is that impossible melancholy of not having Rosemary around. She did everything possible, before she died, to make sure that I would live on with no problematic wrinkles.

And while I am not  a landscape photographer I do take panoramic shots when I bike to Jericho Beach. Here they are.