My mom is currently standing in that same yard that this picture was taken in. That's our place in Newfoundland, what I consider 'home', although i have been there once (see previous posts) in seven years. Home is a concept that is not rooted in reason or sense, it is, cornily enough, something found in the pit of your stomach (or heart).
I love Toronto. When I was living in Vancouver, I had a sno-globe of toronto featured prominently in my crib so I could always remember it, that Stacey had sent me. I loved it. When I returned back to Toronto after a 2.5 year quest, I consumated my love by frolicking like never before. In dirty alleys, pubs, bars, resto's, on my bike in the summer air, on patios... i drank it up.
Lately, though, I feel that my wonderful city isn't meeting my needs. I'm not sure what that means, it's just a feeling in my gut. I would happily buy a home here, which I will in two years (when I'm done Teacher's College), but I'm not sure I'll ever get that same feeling of 'home' that I get when I'm in Newfoundland. I'm not alone either, as the summer months in Newfoundland are found jammed with buses, boats, and planes bringing genetically similar looking people back to the place they were born. It's like a big giant island of family members.
Yes, I'm romanticizing a bit, but when my gal and I flew in to St. John's on the solstice last month, the guy I was sitting beside on the plane ended up living right next door to my Nan, who lives in one of the most remote places on earth . (look for fogo, you'll see it). RIGHT NEXT DOOR! He's related somehow, i think he's my mom's cousin.
In a city like toronto, so few actually grew up here. Perhaps those who grew up in the burbs and move into the city also consider the city itself home. For the rest of us, I'm guessing it's not. We try to make it home. For those who love it, we don't litter, we enjoy what it offers, we laugh on the streets, and bike home at night and swoosh around cars and dogs, we enjoy the 'wildlife' (skunks and racoons - you know who you are!) , and we generally try to recreate, somehow unconsciously, our previous homes, the comfort of being surrounded by comfort.
it's not easy. Toronto is my second home, and I'll have to be content with that. I've lived in so many places, travelled, and moved, and on purpose and by accident, from England to Conneticut to BC, to Newfoundland, to Stratford and London, from Avenue Road to Madison Avenue. The one thing that change gives you is perspective. As Tom Waits sings in San Diego Serenade:
I never saw the morning 'til I stayed up all night
I never saw the sunshine 'til you turned out the light
I never saw my hometown until I stayed away too long
I never heard the melody, until I needed a song.
I never saw the east coast 'til I move to the west
I never saw the moonlight until it shone off your breast
I never saw your heart 'til someone tried to steal, tried to steal it away
I never saw your tears until they rolled down your face.
2 comments:
It's funny, I'm not Newfie nor do I claim to be...I am Manitoban after all, but when I talk about Newfoundland I call it "home". Example when I talk to my parents about my vacation I say..."I can't way to go home." and my wife pipes up...THAT IS NOT YOUR HOME. It would be in a heart beat if I could get a job there.
I am so looking forward to the Island of Fogo it's unbareable. Beautiful picture by the way, and I'll have some to share soon...in about 3 weeks.
Home really is where the heart is and nfld tugs at the heart strings like no ones business. Having just got back from there I am in a funk. I really want to be there, not here, not at my job, not at all. I love this place too but not in the same way. This is a place, not a home. Life sucks sometimes when we cannot get what we really need or we are afraid to take the chance. Islanders are such a different breed of people, I am proud to be one and will be till I die. I stole that line, sorry boys.
M in Stratford
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