I'm apologising in advance...

For many things, but specifically:

• for not talking to everyone I should have while home (pretty rich from the girl who bitched about friends not having time for me before I left for home!)
• and for being sentimental - because I believe that is how this entry is going to be....

For those I've missed - and you know who you are because you've called and traded messages with me and/or had a very short conversation on the phone AND you read this blog - I am truly sorry. I have no idea where the time went, I just know I wasn't sitting around much (though the increase in the girth of my ass over the last few weeks might indicate otherwise...)And as long as the new job doesn't interfere - I'll be home at Christmas. A short visit, but one where I'll make you two a priority. Please tell me you're grabbing that olive branch!!!!

Now for the sentimentality. Well, going home has been really good for me. It's helped sort a few things out in my head and I feel more settled and/or at peace than I have been in I don't know how long. I'm not sure if Australia is meant to be my lifelong home, but I do know I'm not ready to move back to Canada yet...

Don't get me wrong - I love Canada (and so does the U.S. customs official I met today. Seriously after he waved me through, he said "Don't forget home. It's a great place - I love your country!)

How nice is that?

But I digress (again....) Canada will always be home - just right now it's not the only one.

So how did I come to feel so settled? Well, it was more than just one thing. It didn't really happen in the first couple of weeks, but it began after I dropped my U.S. visitor off at the airport last Sunday morning. It was quite early and as I was driving back to Mom's, it was still so quiet - hardly anyone was out and about. I drove around the old neighbourhood and found/renewed and appreciation for the beauty of the area where I grew up: quiet, residential streets, lined with beautiful old trees that provided a canopy of green that I've just never found anywhere else. My meandering of the neighbourhood unconsciously brought me to a place I hadn't seen in almost twenty years: the cemetery. A place I hadn't been since my father's funeral.

It's strange, I'm not really one for the physical reminders of the dead. Cemeteries, headstones don't really hold any special allure or magic for me, but my disquieted subconscious brought me there - so I wasn't going to avoid it. Remarkably - despite not having been there in what at times seems like forever, I found the grave quite easily. It was such a peaceful morning - no one else was there - and the beauty of Canada showed through even in such a sad place with gorgeous trees and dew soaked grass. I glanced at my father's name, simplistically yet elegantly etched on the stone, then lightly patted the top of the market, said "hey", paused a moment then walked back to my car.

That was all either he or I needed. Truly, that's the best way I can explain it.

The peaceful easy feeling grew with five days at the cottage with my best friend, her husband and their three kids. It's so nice to spend extended time periods with friends because then there's no pressure to try and fit everything in - and the relaxed atmosphere of the cottage makes it so enjoyable.

You know, usually when I leave (especially the cottage) I get a little sad or choked up - it never matters how ready I am to go back - but this time it was different. For the first time, I didn't feel the need to say a mental, heartfelt goodbye. It's almost like Toronto and the cottage are old friends - I'll miss them, but I'll see them again.

And that's how I feel about my friends - I'll them them, but I'll see them again - there's no need to hold so tight, because they aren't going anywhere - they're only a plane ride (albeit, a lone one) away.

Sorted. Finally.