Toonies, Tuques, And Turks

I’ve lived in the United States for over ten years. Even when I first moved here, it didn’t seem foreign. Not to my 15-year old brain. It did feel a bit like a mirror universe; things were slightly askew. Gone was the French, in with the Spanish. Obviously, the flags were different (and plentiful). The houses were shorter and older. It wasn’t acceptable to say pop, cutlery, or tuque. School started an hour earlier, ran in quarters, and had seven classes a day.

There are things I miss about Canada, but they’re not what you'd expect. I liked picking up change off the ground and having it be worth money. I adore Big Turks and proper hot tea. I miss seeing and reading bilingual anything. Chinooks and the Northern Lights are amazing. I miss hockey, curling, and the frozen ice pond we used as a skating rink.

Home is where you live. People wonder why I haven’t moved back. I loved living there but it’s not home. You can never move back to what you had. You can only move to someplace new.

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