Can't win 'em all

While Liylah waited at home, climbing the walls with anticipation,















the Canucks lost their match 4-1. Yaron (#97) scored the team's one and only goal, so the trip out to Ile Bizard (thanks for the correct spelling, Judy) was more than worthwhile.



You can see the naches written all over Gilly's signature grin! Joey is visible in the background.

We spent what little was left of our day doing household chores and receiving a few special guests (Aviyam and Michal followed by Auntie Bea).

Gilly changed his specs numerous times as the day unfolded, but to no avail. He brought 2 pairs with him to the arena, and repeatedly replaced one with the other. He did this same thing on the way to Toronto a couple of months ago, before we knew why. He had 3 or 4 pairs in different pockets, and kept trying to find the most comfortable situation, but never did succeed.

This is a man who blows me away when I think of how he expertly adapts to new situations. He has travelled the world to inspect, rebuild, test and whatever else he does to engines of the locomotive variety and other sorts of machinery, like generators. Each time he enters a new situation, he meticulously studies the environment. In no time he begins to adopt the habits, customs and even lingo of the natives. He has that knack; sort of like a chameleon. When we arrived in Malawi this summer, he totally floored me by hopping off the plane after 2 days of travel, and dashing off to work for whatever was left of the day. His driver was on vacation, so he took the vehicle and drove ( and being on the wrong side of the road was the easy part, let me tell you). I know he will learn to adapt to his new 'sight' when his eyes settle into a more consistent 'seeing' pattern.

Tomorrow, he's off to Beauharnois for the next tournament, a hop, skip and a shlepp away. I'm staying home this time to get a jump start on a week of grading papers, planning new assignments, and clearing off Gittit's bed!

Yaron released me from hockey mom duty by saying, "Mom, you really don't have to come. My regular season is over, so this doesn't mean as much to me." He immediately checked back to ensure I understood correctly by adding, "It's not that you being there doesn't mean as much to me, just the game itself." The apple doesn't fall far, does it? He's as kind and loving as his father (and sister for that matter). It was an important distinction to make in his estimation.