“Language is the only homeland.”

It is the first day of 2018. I don't like New Year resolutions and this is not one. It is not a resolution, rather a reflection, a note of gratitude and appreciation.

After the federal election in 2015, when the liberal government came into power, although it was not my party of choice and not the one I voted for, I was happy. Happy that the conservatives were not elected. In fact so happy that I cried. I shared my joy on Facebook, "we got our country back" or something similar. I didn't think much about what I posted on Facebook, I didn't choose the words, it was an instant feeling coming out of my heart. I only thought about it when a friend asked me if I really saw Canada as my home. It was then that it struck me. Her question made me gasp. Did I really say that?  Did I say "my country"? I felt I betrayed my country of birth. I felt ashamed as if  I had betrayed my roots, my family, what has made me "me". It took me months of reflection and soul searching, months of thinking deep about one innocent sentence I had shared joyfully on Facebook. How and when did I feel that long lost sense of belonging to this country that made me call it home?

This December marked the 16th year of the day we arrived in Canada, had our first Tim Horton's coffee (which made us almost gag but that is a whole different story) and found out what cold really meant.

Finally feeling at home, feeling like I belong was the end of a long painful journey for me. It didn't happen overnight. I don't know exactly when it happened but I know my children had a major role in taming my wild wandering soul. Canada is their home and they are my home. I owe it to them to tell them the stories of their ancestors, their grandparents, the beautiful land that was once home, the home that has lost its soul to death eaters and the story of those who fought the death eaters to their last breath.

I am home. My heart is full as I write this. But how could I have got here without the amazing people I have met along this journey? The people who helped me fall in love with this country, this city enough to call it home? I owe it to them, to myself and to my boys to share their greatness.

So here is my goal for 2018. To tell the stories of everyday heroes, of ordinary people I have had the privilege of knowing, of the souls burning with untold stories, and of life and love!

“Maybe your country is only a place you make up in your own mind. Something you dream about and sing about. Maybe it's not a place on the map at all, but just a story full of people you meet and places you visit, full of books and films you've been to. I'm not afraid of being homesick and having no language to live in. I don't have to be like anyone else. I'm walking on the wall and nobody can stop me.” 
Hugo Hamilton, The Speckled People: A Memoir of a Half-Irish Childhood

Title: quote by Czesław Miłosz