The waiting is the hardest part

We learned a few days ago that we will have to wait almost a year to get in line for immigration again. This is so hard. When families are separated, lives together are on hold as lives alone go on. How can this be good for families? Perhaps expecting compassion from governments is the definition of foolishness and optimism. A government, this one or that one, is something to endure. This immigration process is such a test of endurance and faith. It's strange how similar our societies are when viewed through the prism of our bureaucrats and officials. Give someone a little power over people and watch them misuse it. It's the same everywhere.

So now we face up to a couple more years of late night phone calls, webcam visits, 4 hour flights with our friends at Air Canada...Lord willing, we will survive. That is my prayer...

Memories in the waiting time

Those of you who live in Tornto full time probably, and i'm making an assumption here, take the city for granted. I know it's true of Seattle, where I spend most of my days right now. All I have to hold me while I wait for residency and try and save the little money I have is the many phone calls each day with my love, the CBC and Pulse 24 on the Net, and memories...

I remember a snowy winter day walking home from the AGO after seeing Yoko Ono's show...the wind whipping the flakes into a white-out as I walked east, then north to catch College, obscuring everything.

I remember nightime walks with my love - the Philosopher's Walk I think it's called...cutting a path through the U of T...young lovers holding hands in the dim light cast by the few lamps here and there as she showed me a piece of her past and her own fond memories.

I remember meeting friends at...Mesis, Tony Bolognas...La Paradis...for long dinners where everyone shared everything...nights filled with laughter and potential....secrets shared and kept...Nights where you connect in a way you'll always treasure. Those were nights I thought were left in my youth, but in that magical city I experienced those nights again.

I remember beautiful spring days sightseeing at Casa Loma....catching the train uptown, then taking a nice long walk to the site. By that time I felt like I belonged, like her love had made this place mine. She is so wonderful and encouraging and inclusive. It makes these memories sweeter.

I remember sitting on the benches at Nathan Phillips Square watching children skate, getting poutine from the big blue van that parks there.

I remember Saturdays eating brunch on West Queen and reading the Star in a booth at Bar One...then off to adventure in the shops as we made our way hand and hand back to Bay Street.

These are only a few sweet dreams I keep. I offer them to remind you of how lucky you are to be albe to enjoy them each day. God willing, many new memories await us all in that beautiful City...maybe I'll see you there soon.