Home for Good

“But when will I see you again?” he said as he stood at the top of the stairwell with a tear running down his face. “He” is my nephew Ethan, and that day as I prepared to head back to the airport, his little face showed that he couldn’t understand why Uncle John was leaving. I explained that Alberta was where Uncle John lived, but that he shouldn’t worry because I’d be home again. “Oh,” said little Ethan as he slowly walked back to his room. “Well, can I get a hug before I go?” I asked. He nodded, but his frowning face never changed. I watched as he went back upstairs as sad as a little boy could get. I had been living in Alberta for a few months and at that very point, knew that I had to make plans to come back soon. Soon took longer than I expected, but I made a point to come home every few months to check in with family and friends. With every visit back east, it made it harder to go back west. For me, nothing was more depressing than flying out of Halifax and coming in for a landing on the baron, flat, prairie. Nothing was more discouraging than not having the time to explore Alberta because working out there meant no work-life balance. But most of all, nothing felt worse than missing the east coast and everything that it meant. And miss it I did. I was glad to see my older sister had put a map on her wall to show Ethan, and my other two nephews where Uncle John lived. To me, that meant that even through I was about 4,500 km away, I wasn’t forgotten. Visits to my parents and my twin sister always ended with a quick hug and a stiff upper lip so they wouldn’t truly see how much I missed them. They never saw how tears would fill my eyes every time I fastened my seatbelt on the flight back to Edmonton. Each trip back started and ended in Halifax. That last day in the city always came too fast no matter how many times I had been back. Every trip back, I was happy to spend time with my crew of friends who I’d met during my time at Saint Mary’s University. It has been 14 years, and for the most part, nothing had changed with them. I’d still hear all about what was happening in St. Peter’s or in Glace Bay. I’d hear all the news about Nine Mile River. I’d hear about their jobs, meet their kids and hear all the reasons why I needed to move back home. I took great comfort knowing that not much had changed. But a lot had changed with me. Going to Alberta was a chance to change myself and force myself out of my comfort zone. I left because I wanted to prove to myself that I could go somewhere outside of Nova Scotia where I didn’t know anyone and still do okay. I did great. But I did an even better job of telling anyone out there who would listen all about Nova Scotia. If you asked anyone of my staff, they could tell you all about Nova Scotia. I taught them our music, our culture and our expressions. My Albertan friends would laugh at how nostalgic for the coast I would get on a foggy day. I realized that I was Nova Scotia’s best ambassador in Edmonton. But, I also realized that was why I had to come back. I came home to give back to a place that had given so much to me. I came back to be closer to my family because looking at pictures of family events on Facebook wasn’t doing it anymore. I came back to be with my friends because I was missing all their important milestones too. I came back to the ocean where the salt air was such an important part of my soul. And, I came back to a job that I loved where my coworkers felt like family. Not everyone is this lucky. I’m going to see little Ethan on Saturday. He’s not so little anymore, but I can’t wait to tell him that Uncle John is home for good.