The day after I turned sixteen I took my driving test. I’ve never loved driving and it made me as nervous then as it does now so I was super surprised when I passed. So was my mum – it took her three tries to pass hers as a teen and I think you could have knocked her over with a feather when I walked out of that place a legal driver.
That evening mum loaned me her car so that I could go out. I grew up in Bramalea (it’s a suburb of Toronto that’s called Brampton now but it’s Bramalea in my heart forever) and like all teenagers in the ‘burbs the only place I ever really wanted to go was the city. It was also the only place that mum said I couldn’t drive her car. No highway, no city, no way.
I agreed, and immediately got on the highway and went to the city, straight to Ken’s house. Ken’s a little older than me and had made his break to freedom and lived in an absolutely craptastic and tiny bachelor apartment that I thought was just about the most incredible thing. It was so cool that you had to take the coolest highway in the city to get there, which was to me was the Allen Expressway. Back then it had yellow/orange low sodium lighting – the only route in the city to have it and driving the last leg to his place was like driving through a cellophane world and felt so grown-up. I didn’t stay long because I had a curfew, and I never asked my mum if she knew I’d broken the rules right out of the gate like that. I’ve always thought that she probably knew because she always knew everything, but then again I wasn’t much of a rule breaker so maybe I got away with it. If she did know she never said anything, probably because by then she’d worked out that trying to keep Ken and I apart was pointless. I was a moth to a flame – except that flames are bad for moths and my life has never, ever been anything but better for getting close to Ken.
The rest is history really. Ken and I went right on being “Steph and Ken” or “Ken and Steph” and those few years after he moved away from Bramalea and was 40 minutes from me is the furthest we have ever lived apart. I moved to Toronto a few years later, and then we always had homes close to each other – and for a long time Ken lived downstairs from my mum. Not in 40 years has Ken had a home more than an hour from mine.
Until yesterday. Yesterday was the beginning of a different thing – Ken moved away. Four hours away to Ottawa. When he told me he was going I cried. I tried not to cry much because it is very selfish to want to keep someone who is making a good and right decision with you for no reason other than than that you like your family tidy, but honestly change is not my best thing, and it is so much easier to be close when we are all… close, you know what I mean?
We went to his place all together yesterday (or at least those of us who could get there) to see him off and give him a box of things that come in handy if you are moving (like toilet paper and napkins and snacks for the car and champagne and plastic glasses to celebrate his new home with his partner and a bottle of scotch for just in case, and Elliot wrote a card and Amanda ran around finding all the best things and Meg made him a cross stitch) and we took it over and surprised him on his porch and then we all tried to say goodbye and were predictably terrible at it. As much as I’m used to having him around that’s how much the girls are used to it too, and Elliot I think doesn’t quite get the magnitude of what’s happened, but that’s okay. We’re all going to learn how to do this new thing.
This is another pandemic lesson, for sure. Ken said until the this thing came along he couldn’t imagine moving away from the family, but for much of the pandemic we haven’t been able to gather as we liked despite living close to each other – and now we’ve had some practice finding other ways to connect, other ways to feel close even when we can’t be, so if you’re going to make a bold move, we’re better equipped now.
There is so much about this decision that changes everything. No more last minute meals or walks together, no more popping by to drop things off – no more weeknight suppers on the porch for Ken and Amanda. (They’ve had a weekly outdoor porch dinner together just about the whole pandemic. Even when things were at their worst, you could find Amanda and Ken and outdoor heaters and electric blankets and takeaway on his porch, the snow swirling around them.) No more training rides together, no more quick park trips with Ellie, no more deliveries of warm bread or things from “Elliot’s Bakery.” (If I know Ken, the impact this move would have on his access to fresh bread and baked goods was a factor he considered a great deal before going.)
On the other hand, there’s so much about this decision that changes nothing. The phone still works (and Ken and I are old enough that we use it.) We all know how to FaceTime and Zoom now, four hours on the train isn’t that far really, and we will figure out holidays and special things just like we always have, no matter what goes on. It’s funny – I know so many families that are so spread out that I’m sure this doesn’t seem like a big deal to them, but it’s only the last year or two that there is any space between our crew at all, and we’ve got a lot to learn. We’re going to get the hang though. We are. We’ve got this.
In just nine days, Ken will get on the train and come back to Toronto so that Team Knit will still be able to ride together, it’s a big bother and he’s had to leave his bike here so that he’ll have it in the right spot, so no more training for him for now. (I don’t know if I should be jealous or not.) If you’ve been waiting to donate to him then today’s probably a good day to fling a little love his way. (His link is here.)
I’m crazy sad that he’s gone, and super proud that he went. I know it was the right thing, but I also know that didn’t make it easy. I am responding in typical fashion. I’ve started him a pair of socks. There’s just no way it won’t help.
(Photo by Elliot – who had zero enthusiasm for holding my knitting but was quite keen to take the picture. Not bad, either. Yarn is Indigodragonfly’s Bike Rally yarn for this year, and the pattern is Show-off Stranded Socks, with a few changes.)
PS: If you look closely you can see that I finished my new top. I’ll get better pictures later but I love it.
PPS: Look at me! I blogged again!
*I’ve always known the phrase “sea change” – my grandparents used it when talking about big changes in perspective or attitude (especially as it related to us kids and our behaviour) but it wasn’t until I was an adult and saw it in a book that I realized it was “sea” rather than “see”. Up until then I thought it was spelled the way it was used… as in “I’d like to see a change”. Anyway. It’s not.
Love stretches.
Across distance. Across time.
Beautifully expressed!
My two daughters are 300 &12,000 miles away so this quote resonates with me too
As long as there is a way to communicate across distances, you and Ken will never be apart.
Also, can’t wait to find out what changes you make to the pattern, because that’s one of my favorites.
Changes like this are always so hard. On the upside, one can get a lot of knitting done on a four hour train ride xx
I had the same thought. That sounds very pleasant!
Lovely bittersweet post, and perfectly timed given that my eldest has just moved to a job in Ireland. More than a four-hour train ride away, unfortunately.
But…but…Ken make blog go.
(Do you have remote desktop up and running?)
Ken, I wish you all joy as you begin a new chapter. Adventure awaits!
I’m a little weepy.
Don’t worry Stephanie. He’ll be back. Or you’ll be there.
(Note to Via Rail: Put yarn vending machines in your Toronto and Ottawa stations. Trust me on this.)
Hugs.
Mazel tov Ken but I’M UPSET!
Did you knit the what appear to be matching sweaters in the picture of your younger selves?
They look matching to me. And they’re gorgeous. I’d love to know what the pattern is.
They are matching “Little Rivers” sweaters (Alice Starmore.) Ken and I knit them as wedding gifts for some friends years and years ago.
Oh, how absolutely lovely. Thank you!
Such sad and hopefully, good news. I am super sad that you and Ken are going to be so far away. You are so much like brother and sister. I hope that it is fir a new job or partner and wish him the best of luck.
That picture though…. that moment is preserved forever.
Oh, no! It’s funny that the idea of Ken moving made me cry — and comment for the first time in ages. For all my adult life, I have lived far from most of my family and old friends – ironically, I moved back to the Midwest and a few years later, the ones who were still in the Midwest moved to San Antonio, where I had moved from… But anyway – I guess your close-by family has always seemed like the family I thought I would have. But I know from experience that “close” doesn’t refer just to distance, and even though Ken won’t be close in distance, he’ll still be close in the ways that count.
I know you’re all sad that you’ll be that much farther apart, but the fact that you have been so close for so long (long enough that you have photographic proof of Ken with that long hair!) that I know the friendship will remain strong. He’s family, and sometimes family lives far away, but you don’t love them any less because of the distance.
My daughter, about Elliot’s age, has gotten very into making personalized cards for people during lock down. Could be a silver lining for him.
Y’all have a beautiful family.
Right there with you! When my best friend moved half way across the country it gutted me. Same situation. Now he lives in Mexico full time. Still hard all these years later, but between phone calls, visits and vacation trips when we can, we’re still very close. I’m glad the move is for happy reasons for Ken! Take care – all of you!
Huge hugs for you and Ken and the rest of your crew. I love seeing that pic of young Steph and Ken. Sweet! What a beautiful post to your friendship. <3
Best wishes to Ken in his new place, but man, that’s hard.
As I think of a cousin I visited at 35 whom I hadn’t seen since I was four. There was this instant, intense mutual sense of belonging and of being home simply by walking into his presence. You all will always have that. It will never change. And that’s what makes the distance bearable.
I am feeling your pain! My best friend of 47 years (we met in first grade) just moved 9 1/2 hours away from Illinois to Tennessee. I feel so lonely!
Bittersweet, indeed. Sadness but happy for Ken and respect his courage to fly and wishing him much happiness in his new adventure.
While change is constant, some things don’t change. He takes pieces of the family’s hearts with him, just as he leaves part of his with you for safekeeping.
Four hours is nothing to the ties that bind – look at those smiles over the years. Beautiful photos – but my favorite is the latest one. Started to type “last”, but that’s not true. Namaste, Bonnie
(Verify with all the squares with bicycles – how perfect!)
Your friendship will abide! You know that. But change is hard. I’m in the opposite situation from yours – my son moved to California in 1995, 1500 miles away. I’ve had, until covid, annual trips out there, and he and his family have been back here for visits. And then in April, they came here – to house-hunt! And Change Is Hard. I nearly had a nervous breakdown until I could sort through all the feelings (none of them *bad* but many about change itself) – and last month they moved here (I still can’t believe it) and now my new normal is that instead of flying for 7 hours (including a stopover somewhere, and never mind how expensive it was) I can drive for 15 minutes and be with them! But the thing is – we stayed close and loving all those years, even half a continent apart, and you and Ken will, too. And who knows? Maybe someday he’ll call you and say, “Hey, could we come stay with you for a couple weeks while we house-hunt there?” You never, ever know.
I’m sorry, Steph, it’s one more massive change in a decade of massive changes. And of course you’ll all be fine, you’re all rather sturdy stock, but it doesn’t make it easier.
I live in Ottawa and I want you to know this city will show Ken all the love and care he can handle inbetween each of his visits home. We have lovely bike trailes all over the place, and lots of bakeries. Wabi-Sabi is an excellent LYS and I recommend it!
Welcome to Ottawa, Ken! Steph, I feel ya, my son has lived in Toronto for 11 years. Guess it’s a fair trade…
Oh Steph! Wait…what?! But…what about..(fill in the blank). Too much change.
Sigh. I’m sure this is just as difficult for him and there had to be compelling reasons for him to agree to move.
And I bet Joe is slightly nervous that everyone will want to move to Ottawa now.
The photos are adorable and I just realized you and Ken are wearing matching sweaters-did you knit each other’s sweater?
So now that Ken is far enough away to knit a sleeve or two as you travel to see him, he may want to consider stepping up his handknits for holidays. He’s going to need something to do on those many hours of video calls with the Pearl-McFee’s. You should start him a list.
I will always be thankful that Ken gave you the blog. It, because of him, and because of you, have changed my life for the better. Thank you.
I couldn’t agree more. Thank you Ken. All the best to you and your partner.
The photo of you both in the matching jumpers is fantastic. The jumpers are also fantastic.
With yarn that fantastic an infant could take a picture that would rival Ansel Adams. You have got this, and when you don’t you have the blog.
Oh gosh. Yike. Hugs.
The original quote is from Shakespeare’s The Tempest: “Nothing of him that doth fade / But doth suffer a sea-change / into something rich and strange.”
Let’s hope it is going to be a rich and strange change for you all.
Sending love and hugs to all of you.
You and and your family could meet Ken at a town 2 hours by train from each other for brunch at a nice cafe once a month. Now, this would only work if trains from the 2 cities left at the same time, and there was a lovely village ( I’m thinking Three Pines from Louise Penney’s books, a lovely bistro that is also a yarn shop).
Good luck, Ken, in your new city.
Thanks for the throw-back pics Stephanie! So fun even at this sad time. It is hard to live away from your best friend but it can be done and the friendship can continue to flourish. As you said, your family will figure this out and you’ll all be ok. Thinking of you during this transition though.
Your wonderful friendship will continue to be wonderful. I have a difficult time adapting to change and so understand your mixed emotions. You’ll make new traditions and find ways to stay close.
Embrace the bold, while understanding it may take a while!
Those are such beautiful pictures, and the new yarn looks delicious enough to eat.
I sent off my donation. (My ankle is better. I’m the one who likes to pay off the credit card bill before it arrives.)
Friendship is beautiful. Thank you for sharing its beauty with us.
Great knits!
I found myself thinking about “see change” since your blog post. And then a version of the Nelson Mandela idea about “be the change”. I am sure your blog and the fundraising for MSF or PWA have indeed made big changes for many, in ways sometimes not foreseen at all. Maybe someone tried a vegetarian dinner at home; rode a bicycle; made a super useful donation to charity; or even stood up to sexism, racism or homophobia – as a result of reading the blog. Kudos to your hard work over the years on this blog (with the instagram side channels).
And yes those old photos are terrific! Amazing Starmore sweaters indeed.
A Mandarin Chinese encouragement is Jiāyóu – add oil, crush it, go for it etc. The rally is going to be very special. Jiāyóu!
Wow, you even have matching his n hers sweaters in the top photo! Love that a whole bunch.
Last year I moved four hours away from all my friends so that my husband can renovate a derelict barn, something that’s always been a dream of his and that we couldn’t afford to do where we used to live. I miss my friends desperately, more than I thought I would. As a group of friends, we were so important to each other when our children were growing up, shareing school runs, swimming lessons, birthday parties and our favourite, Friday Club in which we all got together to eat pizza and drink Rosé (the mums, not the kids). I moved away from my family when I was 20, so my friends are like sisters. I’m going back to see them next week, and I can’t wait.
I cried. I don’t wBt Ken to move away to Ottawa! I do hope that he loves it there, however! Happy trails, Ken! And thanks for doing the ride, despite the hurly-burly of moving!
My BF and I lived in the same city for years. We even worked together and had lunch together every day (where I taught her to knit). We live far apart now, but are trying to do a trip together each year. Last year it was Carmel Monterey for 2 weeks. This year it’s NY State for 3 weeks and our (accidental) timing means we get to go to Rhinebeck!! We’d both kill to go to England, but we’re waiting until the chaos over there calms down. Anyway, the time together on these trips (sort of) makes up for being far apart. Just sayin’…..
My best friend will be moving 6 hours away next week, while my husband and I are on vacation. Yes we have FaceTime and Zoom and phone calls, and yes she’ll be in the area every 8 weeks or so (her elderly father lives here). But now our visits will need to be planned. As you say no more stopping by, last minute getting together. No more knowing she’s there, 10 minutes away. I only wish her happiness in her move but I’m so so sad.
Just catching up on your blog. I also grew up in Bramalea! B section.
I miss it.
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