Home

I clearly remember the first time that I truly felt that Canada was home. It was this past summer, and my husband and I were returning from a two week trip to South Dakota for my little sister's wedding. It had been great to see family and friends while home, but I was ready to get back to Coquitlam and get on with the summer. At that point in time, I was still referring to SD as "home," even though I had spent three years in Canada. I'm not sure why, but in my mind, Canada still wasn't home. It felt like home, but I hadn't yet said that it was home. We made the usual stop at the border-during which I always hold my breath fearing that some imaginary problem is going to come up to keep me from returning to Canada...it almost happened once before, but that's another story for another time. We waited patiently in the line-up, then handed the border agent our passports and answered the usual questions: "Where do you live?" Coquitlam "Where have you been?" South Dakota "What is the value of the goods you are returning with?" $250...

We answered all of the questions and the agent then let us through. We passed into Canada, and it was a gorgeous day. The sun was shining brightly on the North Shore Mountains, highlighting their beauty. The warm air was blowing into our open windows, and I put my feet up on the dash. We began to drive down 176th Street toward Highway 1, the same way that we always do. I looked at the little sign that we always see at the point, the one that says "Welcome to Canada, a friendly reminder, what WAS 25 mph is NOW 40 kph." I always look at that sign, and never think about it. This time, however, I realized that I was now more used to kilometers per hour than miles per hour. I was used to spelling colour and favourite with a "u," and I now almost always said, "Zed" instead of simply saying "z." There was nothing special about this particular trip across the border, and there was no traumatic event that made me realize it, but I suddenly took in a deep breath, let it out, and sighed, "It's so good to be home." Kevin looked at me strangely and then nodded and agreed. He had no idea that I had just had a revelation! I was finally, truly and completely home.

I will probably never be able to make the conversion from degrees Celsius to degrees Fahrenheit in my head, and I will always continue to be proud to be an American, but at that point it felt so good to finally be home. I finally realized, after three long years, that home can be anywhere. I had been holding so tightly to my friends and family and traditions, that I hadn't allowed others to creep into my heart and mind. Yes, I had good friends in Canada, but I hadn't allowed them-with the exception of Kevin-to become best friends. Every time I felt that I was becoming close to them, guilt would wash over me, causing me to feel that I was somehow replacing my past friends.

With the realization that I was home, came another revelation. I didn't have to replace my past friends, I could just simply add new friends to the mix! Perhaps it was fear that if I added new friends, my old friends would do the same and forget about me. I know now that this simply isn't true. We can never forget those that have placed their footprints on our hearts. Our friendships may change...but they are still there. The quote that is on my blog homepage is one that rings true for me. I believe that different friends DO open different worlds to us, and perhaps help us to become people that we never knew that we could be. I am thankful for those worlds that have been opened to me. I hope that I continue to experience new, fresh and exciting worlds for the rest of my life...in the meantime, I will hold all of these worlds within my heart.

An old friend... and a new friend...


MEET! My two worlds are one.