Now we are Home but strangely not Home. We are physically and emotionally discombobulated. We are certainly in our house but someone else has been living here so it looks completely different. It is almost as though we are in yet another rental home and we are setting to work to make it comfortable for ourselves. There are small changes to the neighbourhood, new homes have appeared, some stores have disappeared. The road works on O'Connor Drive are still in progress and the construction of the big sewage tunnel under the 'hood is underway. Our favourite Thai restaurant has a new bunch of people running it: the portions are smaller and the prices higher. Why did we think that everything would be the same as it was a year ago? We aren't, La Rochelle isn't and neither are any of the people we know. I now understand the angst of immigrants who came to Canada in the '50s and '60s. It was still very expensive to return to their homeland and they would long for Home, remembering it in great detail, as they saved and saved for that exciting visit back. And then, they would return to Canada full of disappointment and stories about how their memories must have been faulty, that things looked so different, people had changed, lifestyles had changed. Just like them, we were imagining our home the way it was six months before we left, conveniently forgetting that we had moved most of our furniture into a storage locker. Nothing looks the same!!
We were so ready to come home. The last few days in Paris, while fun and relaxing were somewhat wasted on us. No more living in the moment! We were counting the hours to AC 881. The journey was flawless. We found a taxi in early morning Paris; the airport bus was quick; the Air Canada line short and even though my suitcase was 2.6 kg overweight, there was no extra charge. The French policeman who checked our passports was not at all interested in our now famous visas. He could hardly summon the energy to stamp one of the pages. We had three seats to ourselves, lots of movies to watch and books to read. Canada Border Services was extremely efficient, no long lines. The young man who checked our passport wasn't at all interested in our French visas nor wanted to hear that we had been away for a year. Clearly we were expecting someone to notice that we were at the end of our adventure and say "Hurrah, you are back".
We found flowers, a baguette and some Brie waiting for us from darling Michelle; two quick and rather brusque phone calls from family members and we settled in to unpack and deal with jet lag. Wandering the house at 3:30 AM, I must admit to a fit of pique that no one had called to welcome us back. Now it was not only officialdom that wasn't interested in our return but neither were our friends or family. However, we were looking forward to celebrating my brother's birthday with him on Saturday night. So off we went chauffeured by Michelle, dressed up because this was after all a celebration. When their door opened--"SURPRISE!!" yelled a large group of family and friends! There were balloons and streamers, lovely food and even champagne!!! They had all been sworn to secrecy by Michelle, my brother and sister-in-law, forbidden to phone in case they gave the secret away. It was wonderful to see everyone, to have a chance, however briefly, to connect, hug and kiss and make plans for more catching up.
What a wonderful gift from everyone, the best one ever. It is great to be Home, because in the end we know now that Home is people you love.
We were so ready to come home. The last few days in Paris, while fun and relaxing were somewhat wasted on us. No more living in the moment! We were counting the hours to AC 881. The journey was flawless. We found a taxi in early morning Paris; the airport bus was quick; the Air Canada line short and even though my suitcase was 2.6 kg overweight, there was no extra charge. The French policeman who checked our passports was not at all interested in our now famous visas. He could hardly summon the energy to stamp one of the pages. We had three seats to ourselves, lots of movies to watch and books to read. Canada Border Services was extremely efficient, no long lines. The young man who checked our passport wasn't at all interested in our French visas nor wanted to hear that we had been away for a year. Clearly we were expecting someone to notice that we were at the end of our adventure and say "Hurrah, you are back".
We found flowers, a baguette and some Brie waiting for us from darling Michelle; two quick and rather brusque phone calls from family members and we settled in to unpack and deal with jet lag. Wandering the house at 3:30 AM, I must admit to a fit of pique that no one had called to welcome us back. Now it was not only officialdom that wasn't interested in our return but neither were our friends or family. However, we were looking forward to celebrating my brother's birthday with him on Saturday night. So off we went chauffeured by Michelle, dressed up because this was after all a celebration. When their door opened--"SURPRISE!!" yelled a large group of family and friends! There were balloons and streamers, lovely food and even champagne!!! They had all been sworn to secrecy by Michelle, my brother and sister-in-law, forbidden to phone in case they gave the secret away. It was wonderful to see everyone, to have a chance, however briefly, to connect, hug and kiss and make plans for more catching up.
What a wonderful gift from everyone, the best one ever. It is great to be Home, because in the end we know now that Home is people you love.
