CHAPTER 53

First written: 2007-07-07

Rewritten: 2026-03-17

Lun revisited Vancouver Island. He was as happy as ever, though his temper had grown stronger—perhaps he had become a bit spoiled by life in the residence.

Since childhood, Lun has loved riding ferries, but he has never been patient with long waits to board. He could lose his temper at any moment, so for many years we did not dare take him on trips to Vancouver Island.

Since moving into the residence (as of 2007), nearly a year and a half had passed, and he had become much more settled. We therefore decided to take him back to the island as a surprise. To avoid long queues at the terminal, we chose to travel on a Monday before a long weekend (a public holiday falling on a Friday or Monday, creating a three-day break).

As usual, to prevent anxiety from anticipation, we kept the special plan a secret from him, even with the help of the residence staff. Before bringing him home for the weekend, we had already packed the luggage discreetly. On Monday morning, after he got into the car—thinking he was returning to the residence—we finally told him: “Vacation—going on a trip, taking a boat.”

He immediately understood and broke into his signature smile. As always, the highlight onboard was fast food—chicken nuggets and fries. While his mother and younger brother lined up to buy the meal, Lun sat in the booth, gazing at the ceiling, occasionally laughing to himself.

During the one hour and forty-five minute ferry ride, he could hardly sit still. He kept pulling me along to the upper deck to enjoy the wind. Although he rarely exercises, he walks briskly and carefully. When going up or down stairs, he always holds my hand tightly. My greatest fear is that he might move too quickly, slip, and tumble into the sea!

We walked back and forth from the bow to the stern two or three times. By the time we returned to the cabin, my thinning hair had been blown into a wild mess. Inside, Lun would pick up several travel brochures—usually those featuring hotels with swimming pools—and take them back to his seat to enjoy.

This time, we rented a camping-style vacation cabin at Qualicum Beach. Vancouver Island was as beautiful as ever, and since Lun enjoys car rides, the half-hour drive passed without a single complaint.

Since childhood, Lun has traveled around British Columbia with us. Wherever we stayed, he adapted quickly. This time was no exception—everything went smoothly until nighttime.

At vacation homes or hotels, Lun is especially fond of sofa beds. We made his bed carefully, thinking he would fall asleep soon. Suddenly, he struck his forehead hard several times with his hand. Later on, whenever he feels dissatisfied, this is how he expresses it.

After I scolded him, he stopped, though he continued to vocalize his complaints. Perhaps he was overtired, or perhaps he was bothered by the various noises in the room. To ensure everyone could “get a good night’s sleep,” we quieted everything down—even turning off the refrigerator. Only then did he sleep soundly until the next morning.

My wife and I discussed the situation and concluded that Lun had grown accustomed to the structured routines, excellent facilities, spacious environment, and high-quality care at the residence—perhaps a little too accustomed. Still, we could not accommodate him entirely. On the second night, we moved him into a bedroom and explained that he could not restrict others from talking. He seemed to understand, made no protest, pulled the blanket over his head, and slept until morning.

It turns out he understands more than we had imagined—perhaps he is more perceptive than we thought. That, in itself, was an unexpected reward of this revisit to Vancouver Island.