Trippin' down memory lane

I opened my email inbox yesterday to find my bi-monthly UBC alumni newsletter. This month’s issue was interesting and I went through the whole thing, feeling those pangs of attachment to my old alma mater. One item in particular piqued my interest, which was the blog of a current UBC student hosted on the Alumni website. I could visualize his references to various points on campus and in Kits; I once knew it so well – my old stomping grounds. His stories brought back waves of nostalgia and, uncomfortably, a deep sadness for a life that is no more, a chapter closed.

I miss Pacific Spirit Park, where the old cedars tower above you and their fresh scent fills your lungs; I miss the sound of my feet striking the earth as I jog on the Lily of the Valley Trail or the Admiral Trail that leads you down to Spanish Banks. I miss Blue Chip Cookies; I miss Main Library; I miss that huge tree that sits outside the biology building that just envelops you in its giant branches.

I miss living in our apartment on Broadway, which coincidentally was just steps from the best dessert restaurant I’ve ever known. I miss the smell of salty sea air; I even miss the rainy days! I miss the beautiful mountains that rise magnificently over English Bay and seeing all the tankers and cruise ships in the harbour. I miss the cherry blossoms and daffodils that sprout in March. I miss rollerblading around the sea wall at Stanley Park. I miss being closer to my family. I miss BC and its beauty.

In reminiscing about my life in Vancouver, I can’t help but feel the same question that bubbles up in me every time I go down this memory lane, “what am I doing here [in Ottawa]? How did I get here?” Sometimes, I feel so far from my roots that I feel lost. But isn’t that the heartbreaker: nothing stays the same.

Vancouver is a stranger now. The city has changed and grown so much. When I go back to visit, I do not feel a part of it; no one looks familiar; stores and businesses have come and gone. It is the natural evolution of a city and it is silly to expect that anything would stay around and wait for me to come back. Or that I would stay the same – I am not the same person I was when I left BC and intuitively I know that if I did go back, I wouldn’t necessarily feel the same way about Vancouver as I do in my sentimental memories.

Once this short-lived sadness passes, I feel comfortable with my current path. I have a pleasant, uncomplicated life in Ottawa. I have found many things here that make me happy. I have friends (albeit a very small circle); I live close to some amazing parks for camping & hiking; I have gotten to know some of my extended family who live near Toronto; I have a partner who values many of the same things I do in life. Ottawa is a great city that fits my needs despite its climate of frigid winters and humid summers.

One of my oldest friends moved to Ottawa from BC a few years ago for a job opportunity. Her intention was the same as mine - to stay for only two years. She’s been here three years now, and she and her husband are now actively pursuing opportunities to move back, and they are talking about moving back with increasing certainty. I dread the day she calls me and tells me they are leaving. My heart will break a little bit. I will be a little bit lonelier when she leaves. She knows where I come from; she knows my history and I know hers.

Funnily enough, it was she who made me realize that I am settled here; my roots are more solidly planted than I had realized. Throughout her time here, our conversations had frequently, inevitably, turned to how much we missed our families and the mountains and the perfect BC weather, and we talked about moving back. It was not long ago when we were having one of our chats that I was struck by the realization that my sense of temporary displacement was diminishing; my focus on moving back was lessening and my comfort level of living in Ottawa was neutralizing. I realized that I had slowly, unconsciously, come to appreciate the city and feel that it was home.

Except that family, mine and also Mark’s are still far away. I do still feel homesick, especially right now.