The last few weeks I have been feeling rather introspective. Summer is finally on the doorstep; the long days and even more so the warm evenings usually have me clambering for the door handle to be outside as much as possible. However, I found all I have been wanting to do is sitting in a comfy corner at home reading. And I am not talking about leisurely turning a few pages. I am talking serious „ripping-through-400-pages-within-as-little-time-as-possible-reading“. What is up with that?!
Today I finished yet another 500+ pager. Weirdly enough, I can not say for certain I actually enjoyed it. Parts were amusing, others endearing, but most of the time I would rather read books that touch me somehow. I guess what I am reading at the moment feels more like the junk food of the book world to me.
Today, four years ago, I – with my husband and son in tow – was desperately trying to catch and miss our flight to Germany. And maybe that is one of the many things I am emotionally „ditching“ currently. It had been a scramble to get ready for our big move and we were so frustrated by the time we were one our way to the airport it was with the assumption we would miss the plane. Well, we didn’t… We also left an awful amount of money at the ticket counter for our overweight luggage… only to find out later that many other passengers did not have to put their hand luggage on that bloody scale… It was just one of those days.
Anyhow, where am I going with this? I am happy here. No questions about it. Our reasons for coming here have all been turned over, looked over and confirmed. Many times.
However, as time passes, different images from Canada seem to strangely haunt me. For a while, there was that view standing at the Ocean. Then I had a mountain theme going on. Now I have been thinking of that little coffee place on the right side of the road going up to Whistler. My imagination would be going through all these details, whenever the picture happens to pop into my head. The white house, the beautiful flowers, the cute interior, the yummy muffins and obviously coffee. Then on to sitting inside or outside looking out over the bay.
It is not so much feeling sad anymore, but more a longing for something I have lost and don’t seem to be able to find, define or let go off. Obviously, it could just be the „expat-syndrome“. Absolutely glorifying all the green stuff on the other side of the fence (or world for that matter) and being more „Canadian/German/British/(Fill in nationality of choice)“ than people actually living there.
Four years and counting… we count the length of our love relationships and we count how long we are apart (for whatever reason that might be)… often that changes with time. I guess I will find out.