Last year around Christmastime, I got
very homesick, but I couldn't buy a ticket with such little advanced
planning. So I stayed in Spain.
This year, thanks to a generous gift from my parents, I flew back to
Canada to enjoy snow, multiculturalism, central heating, and food
from every place in the world you can think of. Also terrible fashion
sense, extremely cold nights, wayyy too early dinners, and high
taxes.
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During a hike in the snow. |
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Yeah, we ate it ALL. |
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Indian food. Oh how I love thee. |
I
couldn't have been happier to be home. How contrary to when
it was time to leave Canada,
when I was nervous yet determined to discover a new way of life. Sometimes we find out what we truly
love when we leave it. How lucky I am to be able to realize that,
simply by buying a return airline ticket. In 2013, I honestly believed the move to Europe would be extremely long-term, perhaps even permanent. I'm not so sure now, after spending time back in my hometown.
|
Reunion |
So
what is home to me? Home is feeling overjoyed to see the mountains,
the layout of the city as your plane lands, to instantly recognize
the scent of the streets as you walk out the front door. It's being
able to flirt with someone cute, in those subtle ways that come with
communicating with words, gestures, and timing. Home
is marvelling at what has changed, and even more so at what has
stayed the same. You see the same person, and although their paunch
is a little bigger and more grey covers their head, they speak and
it's like listening to an old recording.
Home
is what you think of when you wake up in the middle of your flight
home, and realize what you're leaving behind. And it hurts. So you
comfort yourself by thinking about your return one day. You may not
know when exactly that will be, but you know home will be there when
you come back.
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