Letter: Farewell to our island family

Monday, April 22 2013

We arrived here disheveled. Disenchanted with the city, led astray and unconnected. 

On Gabriola Island we found ourselves again, or perhaps properly for the first time. 

Before which, I hadn’t really chopped wood, grown my own food, wondered where my water comes from or where my poop goes. 

I hadn’t seen my lovely wife play in and coax a blazing fire or work topless in a sea of food. 

I hadn’t showered in farty water or crapped in the woods, particularly. 

I hadn’t heard such silence or such deafening orchestral ambiance, coming from the pond – and the birds, oh the birds, the deer, the dogs and horses and pigs, the sea life and shore treasures. 

I have come to truly love it all. When I came here I wouldn’t have said, “I’m an artist.” 

All kinds of people, events, discussions, visions and influences over five short years have entered my veins to a point where I can be nothing else. 

That came from Gabriola. 

I watched my wife truly grow, like the garden she grows wild. Just like all of you, she speaks to and hugs and kisses each plant and creature she sees. 

Her passion for this place and the people in it sprouted a flower that was always waiting to break free. 

I think she may have sprouted a few of you as well. Gabriola and so many friends and acquaintances nurtured, healed and ultimately shaped a future we were not on course with. 

This place literally made us who we are. We both did so much growing up here that this little island will always be in our lives. 

It could not be otherwise, it is a home full of family. 

Love, truly,

~ Clint and Pam McCartney