Do It Myself Blog – Glenda Watson Hyatt

I’m taking a brief pause from regularly scheduled blogging to share this story:

On Monday afternoon, Darrell had an appointment with the hospital doctor to check his pneumonia; he is recovering nicely. The appointment was at the Rapid Access Clinic, now located in the Charles Barham Pavilion, which opened in 1970 on the grounds of Surrey Memorial Hospital.

Wheeling up to the main door and entering inside, something felt vaguely familiar; like I had been there before. I heard the nurse mention to another patient that the building had been the extended care facility, which I somehow already knew. But why would I have been in old folks’ home?  When?

Sitting there, waiting to see the doctor, I could feel the history of Surrey within those walls. If only those walls could talk, I bet they would share some amazing stories about the early days of Surrey.

We left that appointment with a new family doctor! One who actually tries to understand me! And, it doesn’t it take half a day on public transit to get there and back. I was ecstatic!

However, I was feeling something more than that, but I couldn’t really explain it. i felt like I was finally putting down roots; like I belong in this corner of Whalley. Whatever it truly was, it felt good and I hung onto the feeling.

Today, I was flipping through a copy of my autobiography, trying to get back into the mindset for writing the next “From Special Ed Classroom to University Graduate” miniseries post, which I began writing on Monday, but then had computer issue for two days; the power supply chose to stop powering!

On the bottom of page 36, I read:

Somehow we joined the choir that practiced during lunch. Considering my speech, it is a funny memory, but it was something David and I could do together during lunch hour. I enjoyed it, although I simply mouthed the words most of the time. The choir performed at the nearby old folks’ home and shopping mall…

That’s it! I had been there before! As a young girl with the school choir. No doubt we performed a Christmas concert for Surrey’s elders. My vague feeling of familiarity now makes sense!

Isn’t it strange how one brief event many, many years ago can still be in one’s memory? I wonder what else is buried my mind’s archives. A whole other book?