I’ll Say Goodbye My Friend, Goodbye, Under A Summer Moon
Posted on June 7th, 2010 in Emotional Angst, Made In Ontario, Migration Paths
The moving truck should be arriving in a mere 4 weeks.
4 weeks. 28 days. Either way, the very thought induces both anxiety and excitement all at once.
In that time, we have to pack as many of our things as possible, plan and execute a birthday party for the eldest child, visit Wonderland and the Toronto zoo, attend a greyhound picnic, and a farewell soirée. Not to mention the three-day camping trip that Aiden and I are going on, and the fact that Jack will be home for only half of the time between now and the move. We also need to squeeze in some time with Aiden’s mum and dad before we leave, and finalize a thousand little details.
Despite the fact that there seems to be far more things to be done than time to do them, I can’t help but feel a rush of anticipation when I think about being back in Calgary.
The house we picked out is absolutely gorgeous, and could only be more perfect if we’d taken leave of our senses and decided to build again (which I swore I would never do after three separate and progressively terrible experiences). V will be close enough that I can see her on a whim. Family will be close enough to provide child-wrangling services whenever we have need.
I will never again have to endure feeling absolutely alone, because I had never experienced that feeling until we moved to Ontario.
Like the time that Jack was out of town and Sadie had to be admitted to the hospital, after we spent three hours waiting in the emergency room. It was 7:30pm, and Luke hadn’t eaten supper, and Nia was the only person in the world I could call to come and fetch him and take him home. If I hadn’t had her, I am not sure what I would have done. There was nobody else could ask for help.
We have been here for almost exactly three years, and it’s been an interesting ride. I can’t say that I will be sorry to leave, although there is a part of me that loves this place.