I will always have a deep rooted place in my heart for Canada. While I have been living in the United States for longer than I ever spent living on Canadian soil, it is where I was born and where I spent much of my childhood. The better part of fifteen years of my life was spent forming friendships, and making memories with my loved ones in southern Ontario. Canada imprinted on me and because of this no matter how long I’ve spent south of my home and native land, a part of me still feels displaced here. The woman typing these thoughts from her house in North Carolina feels worlds apart from the little girl who spent her childhood moving from place to place in Ontario. It feels like another life, lived by another version of myself. It’s a strange dichotomy that I cannot reconcile, even on the edge of forty years, or perhaps especially because I am on the precipice of forty years. The juggernaut that time is, coupled with the distance that was put between me and my family up north, robbed me of ten years in the blink of an eye. When I added a trip to Canada to my Forty Before Forty list it was with the resolve to not let life sweep me up in its tireless drive forward, without allowing me the chance to visit my family and friends again.
~Ready to hit the road again after a stop over at a hotel for the night. (Oct. ’25) ~
When my Great Grandma passed away in 2010, my firstborn was only a few months old. Raymond couldn’t get his passport renewed in time to travel across the border, so our baby girl and I joined my parents on the heavy-hearted trip up north. At the time we were all living in Florida, so the drive was even longer than it is now from North Carolina, but I have no recollection of it. The following year, my little family of three then ended up in California, quite removed from the lengthy but direct route to Ontario we had been accustomed to when living on the east coast. We welcomed our little boy to the world in 2012, then made our way back to Florida by the end of the following year. We couldn’t immediately move back into our house, so we took the opportunity to visit Canada.
~My daughter’s first picture with the cow statue. (Sept. 2010)~
~My son, enjoying some Timbits from Tim Horton’s, during our stay with my uncle. (Oct. 2013)~
Our kids were three and one at the time, and have little to no memory of our visit. In short order, life had us relocating to the west again, then back to the east coast, in a series of whiplash moves. This time we settled in North Carolina with the hope of settling down for the kids’ sake, even if it meant not being in the tech hub that Raymond’s career needed to thrive. My passport had expired and the kids needed passports, and it was all time-consuming and expensive. Somewhere in there, I had to renew my permanent resident card as well. Just like that, ten years went careening past me. An entire decade passed me by. So, in 2023, when we finally made our way back into Canada, it was a truly bittersweet endeavor.
My small hometown hadn’t stopped growing and developing just because I left. There were relics of the past amidst new-to-me erected shopping centers. Where once stood the church that my parents were married in, where I had spent many Sunday mornings as a little girl nestled next to my beloved Grandma P in one of the long wooden pews, was an apartment complex. It was jarring to see all that was lost but what remained; Memories ignited, and memories extinguished. What was more difficult to process was the affect time had had on the people I love.
We were able to visit my Grandma Mary during the trip we took up in 2023. She was having a lot of difficulty hearing me or the kids, and we’re all pretty soft-spoken, so my Dad carried most of the conversation. It was heartbreaking in a way, but I was grateful to have been able to see her and catch up, if not in the way I had once been able to. I have had recurring dreams for years that take place in that little brick house on the corner, and I was heartened to see that much of it remained the same. Though my Grandpa has not been with us since I was in high school, his collection of tiger art and portraits were still on display on the dining room walls. I snapped pictures as many pictures as I felt comfortable with, realizing just how precious time was in that moment. I wanted to hold onto some of the memories of the hours and hours I’d spent within that house with my grandparents, just in case I didn’t make it up there again anytime soon.
~My Grandma. I spent so much time in that room with
her and Grandpa during my childhood. (Oct. ’23)~
I share all of this, even though it tells nothing of our most recent visit, because it will help me express the depth of emotion I felt when we pulled up to my uncle’s house last month. My parents had driven up from Indiana as well, so we were all reunited for the week. We don’t go as long between visits, but time is merciless in its march forward so they’re not as frequent as I would like. The kids were really excited to be there, which made my heart soar. Sharing this part of my life with them, especially now that they’re old enough to understand, is important to me. They are also starting to understand the importance of making time for the people you love. They won’t always be around.
So, we spent our week together, simply enjoying the fact that we were together. The weather was mild and sunny, which was a blessing for October in Ontario. So, we enjoyed a walk in the park, and taking turns playing fetch with the dogs in my uncle’s backyard. We celebrated Thanksgiving with a big spread of food, and a lot of laughter remembering our weekly dinners with my Grandma P, when she was still with us. She took pride, and I think found joy, in preparing food for her family. It was impossible to not miss her during our stay with my uncle, but I am glad we can still include her with our reminiscing.
~My parents and I posed for a nice photo at the park.
Their puppy didn’t get the memo but she’s cute anyway. (Oct. ’25) ~
~My uncle’s pup was super excited too have so many people
willing to toss the ball for him. (Oct. ’25) ~
My son and I love Red River cereal, as does my Mom, so everyone except for my husband (who stayed behind to work) made a drive out to the Arva Flour Mills to stock up on some. My parents treated us to whatever I wanted to grab, but I tried to be reasonable. In addition to a couple different types of the cereal, I selected a gluten-free carrot cake mix to try and the container of carob powder my uncle pointed out to me. (My husband makes me a delicious carob cake that rivals the McCain’s chocolate cake I cannot eat.) It was tempting to grab more, they had a nice selection of flours and other baking ingredients. For my kids, the highlight was the kitty that roamed the mill. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to check out their cafe because just as we checked out the high school up the road must have let out for lunch, and apparently the flour mill’s cafe was a popular hangout. I thought that was a pretty nice reason to miss out, though, and made me think of the days I used to spend walking to and from school with friends in my own hometown.
~The kiddos had fun at the flour mill. (Oct. ’25) ~
We drove out to sit and visit with my Grandma B one morning. She enjoyed hearing about what we had been up to, and shared some stories from her own childhood as well. I also got to spend several hours with my best friend, Becky, catching up and laughing over silly things. Thankfully, she understands chronic illness better than most, so she told me before I went up that even if we just quietly sat next to each other, it would be enough. That took the pressure off, not having to worry that we were making it some spectacular outing or event. My uncle ordered pizza for everyone (I had poutine) and when Becky and I said goodbye at the end of the evening I was grateful that we’d been able to see each other in person. We aim to have regular video calls together, and message each other frequently, so we make an effort to keep our long-distance friendship thriving but getting to physically hug her was a blessing.
~BFF’s since 1997. 😀 (Oct. ’25) ~
Toward the end of the week, my Mom and I swung by Wal-Mart, just the two of us. We wanted to grab some yummy treats that aren’t readily available in the US, if at all, to take back home with us. We may have browsed some other departments as well, since we didn’t have everyone with us like we had when we went shopping for groceries. When picking out snacks for the week, I’d frowned at the chocolate aisle because it was yet another reminder that so much has changed in my life. Since I would have more time to work through the snacks at home, I ended up grabbing some chocolate anyway. I’ll suffer for it, but sometimes a little taste of nostalgia is worth the misery.
~I took this one with my blog post in mind. lol I loved all of those chocolate bars but now that I know it contributes to my chronic pain, which made this aisle a lot less exciting. (Oct. ’25)~
~I can’t have any of the canned pastas either (tomato – bah) but since I loved Alpha-Getti and Zoodles as a kid, my daughter got a can to try. (Oct. ’25) ~
My parents had arrived a day earlier than us, so they left a day earlier than us. We were all sad to see them go. It never feels like enough time. Friday was the first gloomy day we’d had, with rain threatening to thwart the one last outing I had my heart set on. Thankfully, it let up and we were able to get pictures with the cow statue, as has become tradition. My uncle treated us to lunch, and then we had to begin the necessary task of packing. When we pulled away from my uncle’s house that evening, I was overwhelmed with a flurry of emotions. Ultimately, I was filled with gratitude. There was gratitude to God, for delivering us safely to our destination, and to my family for paying for a lot of our treats during the week, since my husband is still looking for a full-time job. There was also a deep well of gratitude for Raymond and how he’d carved out time to drive us all to Canada, took care of the lodging needs on the way up, and drove all of it himself. He knew it meant a lot to me, so he found a way to make it happen, and on the drive home I felt so much love for him.
~The rain stopped so we could take the traditional cow statue photo. (Oct. ’25)~
In the days since we arrived back in North Carolina, I have thought about just how much I had taken for granted that Canada as I knew it would just always be there. That there would always be someone to make the journey north for. I confessed to my Mom during our visit, how hard it was at times to be there, because it was a constant reminder that things will never be the same. There are entire cities we no longer make the trek to, because the loved one we visited is no longer with us. London was always a stop on our visits, but since my Grandpa P passed, it didn’t make the cut. When my Grandma B is called to Heaven, there will be nothing else in that tiny little farming town to pull me there. They felt like macabre thoughts to be dwelling on at the time, but they’ve haunted me in the weeks since.
I didn’t get to visit with Grandma Mary during this visit, not because she is no longer with us, but because she is battling Alzheimer’s. My Mom was the one arranging most visits, so I just assumed if she hadn’t planned one, then it was likely in Grandma’s best interests. Since our visit two years ago, Grandma’s ability to take care of herself declined considerably and her daughter moved her into her house so that she could take care of her. The little brick house on the corner is no longer home to either of my grandparents, and the ache of feeling like you’ve already lost someone who is still with you is something I can’t quite wrap my head around. My cousin is hoping to move into the little brick house on the corner, to keep it in the family, but it is another reminder that things aren’t the same.
Will there one day be a time where there is no one left to visit? What is really rooting me to Canada? Is it a fear of letting go of the place that molded so many of my core memories, with people that left indelible marks on my life? I don’t have the answers. I’m just musing.
This probably isn’t the post you were expecting to go along with checking off #32 on my Forty Before Forty list. I promise they won’t all be so introspective and lengthy, but I needed to get all of these thoughts about the trip out. It was a wonderful week, and I am incredibly thankful to have been able to make it up to Canada this year for Thanksgiving. I really thought this goal was going to end up being a real long shot, given how our lives are going right now, so to have so many pictures and memories to share, brings my heart joy.
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