I went home to Canada to surprise my niece for her birthday. I took the redeye last Thursday night, and came back to LA on Sunday. It was a wonderful, albeit far too short visit. Here’s the thing about going home though, even 5 minutes can feed your soul. I was surrounded by family, friends, nature, Canadian accents, and animals. I was in cottage country on Lake Simcoe, which is a glorious place.
I woke my niece up when I went in her room, and she simply stared at me, unsure what was happening. She then jumped up and hugged me like her life depended on it. She is a wonderful human being and I would love her even if she wasn’t family. I am very happy I went for the weekend. The truth is I would fly home every weekend if I could. There is no place like home, and home is Canada.
I played board games, read while relaxing in a hammock, watched the sun rise with a cup of tea sitting by the lake, and watched the sun set at a dinner table covered with delicious food and enveloped in good conversation and laughter. I tuned out the noise of life for a couple of days and slowed everything down. It was a terrific weekend and I was happy, which is a blessing often overlooked in the chaos of life.
Canadians are good people. There is inherent kindness and generosity. Not only that, but there is a genuine desire to talk to people. Whether you are at the grocery store, or sitting and waiting for your flight to be called, a Canadian will smile and engage in a way that is classically Canadian. I have lived in America longer than I lived in Canada, but Canada will always be what feeds my soul.
I cried when my brother dropped me off at the airport. Not a pretty tear down the cheek situation, but rather a bawling and gasping for breath type of thing. I flew home comforted by a bag of ketchup potato chips and a Coffee Crisp. When I miss my brother I will pull out my emergency stash of Aero, remember the weekend, and keep the faith.