Nothing remains as it was.
If you know this, you can begin again
with pure joy in the uprooting.
~ Judith Minty
Everyone moves from time to time and in terms of life injuries, well, it's just not that significant.
But when you're preparing to leave the city where you've raised your children from infants to teenagers and every corner of every street flashes a memory, the task takes on a different weight.
Sure, there are plenty of good reasons to be attached to this city. Consistently ranked among the best communities to live in Canada and one of the cleanest and highest quality living cities in the world, there's no doubt, Ottawa is a gem.
But that's not what I will miss most about home.
No. My heart is breaking leaving this city because there isn't a corner of this well-traveled neighborhood that doesn't remind me of the fifteen years we've spent living it. From the crawling stage to the dirt eating stage to the mound of grass where our youngest found his first four-leaf clover, to the epic meltdown on Bank street that saw a certain three year old boy strip down to his bare skin one painstaking item of clothing at a time until he stood there planted in his resolve, his thirty pound frame shivering in the wind, and casting a look back at me that let me know, we had just begun.
And the funniest things are occurring to me too. The thought that our phone number will never ring to us again; the idea that we are deserting the ash tree we planted in our backyard when it was only three inches tall -- how long will it live and will I ever see it again? The fact that I won't get to say goodbye to everyone including all the so-called strangers I run into every single day (is it weird that I am now possessed with an urgent need to meet them?) and the stretch of wall in our kitchen (the great wall) where our boys - and every guest, friend and family member - who entered our home measured themselves - a collection of graduated marks and honors, now covered over in builder beige.
Whenever I feel like I'm going to lose it, which happens a fair bit, I find myself holding on to Dr. Seuss:
We are so blessed to have spent fifteen incredible years in this beautiful city with its spirited inhabitants. I am now intimately acquainted with every tree-lined dog walking path, soccer pitch and hockey arena scattered across eastern Ontario (in fact, I can even tell you the mean temperature inside each of those arenas -- yup, I'm even going to miss freezing my butt off!).
So we move forward, with open hearts and optimism. And we have so many people to thank for supporting us both while we lived here and during our warp speed transition out of the city. Family, friends and neighbors who have extended their hands and celebrated our final days -- thank you for making us feel so well surrounded and loved. That's what we will remember most.
the majestic ash tree we planted in our backyard 12 years ago
I was 7 months pregnant, the tree was only 3 inches tall
a warm greeting for baby brother
moments after arriving home from hospital
A slice of the great wall
(a tough thing to capture in all of its sacredness ;-)
our first summer at the cottage 10 years ago...
(we are not selling our cottage!! in fact, it is my covert plan to return to Ontario
every summer for most of the summer -- shhhhh... don't tell a soul ;-)
Dear friends and faithful supporters of Inspired Edibles, please bear with us as our family settles in to our new home and life in California -- we can't wait to reconnect and share our new adventures with you!