A leaving and a landing

November 15, 2014

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Blurs.

The days have gone by like blurs… I see Mona’s face, her her audacious fire red mohawk, the blue flower pinned on there, she took me to the airport but beforehand we stopped and ate at the Gratitude cafe and I see this image in my mind of her face surrounded by the subdued off white background.

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I see Forrest running around the house with me trying to find my glasses. Forrest getting late because of me and not saying a word of reproach. Forrest having to go to the post office for me because of the time we lost trying to find the glasses I lost didn’t allow for me to visit the post office myself.

I see and hear Kimberly, that laughter, the sunshine of her beingness, she is getting more and more beautiful as time goes by and I am moved to just know her. Like I want to keep quiet, not say anything just feel her being her.

I see Sunny in many moments, the way she pays attention to everything, the way she cares. The way she brushes the cat whose smiley face I now can never forget. I see Steve cooking for all of us, glasses on top of his head.

I think of Hector’s face as Steve and Sunny explained the ins and outs of taking care of a sickly cat. His sense of humor, and then I am remembering how he kept showing up all over Greater Los Angeles just to help me.

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Heather, Crystal, Michael her father and Michael my new friend who now houses my stone horses. Oh and Seraphim. Seraphim, how I didn’t want to leave the house there… I really hope we can have a trip one of these not too far away days. Irene which I didn’t get to see, Rye whom I saw for just a little bit bit it was so goo, David who took me for lunch, Tom and Dana which I didn’t expect to see, Aaron and Flip, whom I really wanted to see… Marguerite with whom I had a delightful time over iced tea. The little blue trail bike that took me all over the place and reminded me how much I love riding.

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Then a cut. There was an uncomfortable night flight, a landing in Philadelphia, a change of aircraft and suddenly we are landing in Montreal.

As the aircraft approached YUL, it was just fields and fields and fields… space. So much of it. At the airport I took my time, the place was deserted… the whole airport at 8:50 AM just empty. I walked to the passport checkpoint. There were questions and somehow these border agents always make me so nervous. They asked if I bought anything, and I didn’t so I say no, but I wonder if they’ll believe me because who goes away for so long and does not buy anything? And I had the guitar, which I had acquired in Canada years ago, but I didn’t carry the little green card with me, proof that it was purchased in Canada so technically they could stop me and charge me with sales taxes for it… Then they asked all these questions about how long I’ve been gone, and it’s been a while and they don’t like it. But it unfurled without problems so I proceeded on towards the baggage claim. Got all my stuff in a big cart and walked out. Again, empty. About 10 people in the whole place. I figured out the bus, the money exchange, and slowly headed out.

It’s cold. It’s sunny. Montreal. The same. But it does feel different as I am the one who changed. I can’t see anything the same way I used to. I can parallel my past viewpoints with the new ones and I see how different they are, some things once seen cannot be unlearned. Things are big, spacious, comfortable, quiet here, a slow moving full bellied, mainly content ship Canada is.

I see mom, my sister, my nephew, friends, when I am asked something, I get asked about my future what goals and ambitions I have. I get asked about my life and there isn’t much more to say than that I am living it. I am enjoying it. That I don’t need much of anything. That the West is daunting with its needs and wants and appetite. And when will I come back? Well I really don`t know.

Snow flakes. The sun was bright but is now hidden. I walk the deserted concrete sidewalk in the pretty neighborhood. Trees, dying flowers, phone numbers on plastic posts for snow removal outfits at many driveways, a new thing to me. Few cars go by, no honks of irritating horns. Women, of all ages, sitting in the subway, so relaxed, just doing their thing. Union propaganda stickers glued to all the wagons. Unions are big here. A policeman wearing camouflage pants… I learned later that they are protesting in a battle with the province for salaries. Blond bobs, spotless coats of the always well dressed Quebecois housewives. It’s nice, pretty. it`s too quiet for a city… I am getting zillions of fast fading memories triggered by a word, by the color of a tree, the angle of the light, the height of a window. Could this ever be home again? Everything is possible, right now home is the world, home is possibilities and now I have no desire to grow roots anywhere. I have an inkling that there is much more exploring to be done first.

I’ll need to digest all this. But one thing sure, is the beauty of the people surrounding me. I don’t deserve half of their generous, selfless, gracious presence. Thank you, all of you… you make life amazing.

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One Response to “A leaving and a landing”


  1. I am very happy to have gotten to visit with you while you were here, Danielle. I do hope you are enjoying time with your family. It comforts me knowing you are there visiting. I hope to see you again in the not-so-distant future. Blessings always on your journey and take care!


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