I am home. I am exhausted. I had a wonderful, wonderful time… I really wished I could have stayed longer. It was a scary travel, though… only I could get to the desk and be checking in for my flight only to be told that my passport is expired. EXPIRED. In March. Well shit, I was a little busy in March. But here I am, hyperventillating, being told sorry, they’re not going to let me on the plane. Luckily my green card and some begging and tears welling up let me on the plane, but ever tried flying on a plane wondering if you’re going to be turned around and sent home when you land? SUCKS. Thank the light, customs had no issues with it. They checked my green card and accompanying paperwork and waved me right on in. (Same on the way back.) I am now quite bitter at gate agents – who are just doing their job, yes – who freak me the fuck out when the customs agents have no issue. Gaahhhhh. No, Canada doesn’t require a passport to get in. Shouldn’t the travel agents know that? (They were clueless.) I think I aged about 20 years that day.

Flying over Toronto as we landed was such a heartwarming experience. Not as exciting as flying over Vancouver, where I’m from, but still. As I looked down and saw Canadian flags flying I felt a sort of peace come over me. I sure do miss Canada since I moved away. I was never a patriotic person, to say the least. Massachusetts, and the area in which I live, isn’t really all that different from where I grew up, in terms of day to day life. But there are little things I see in Canada – little, insignificant things – that scream “home” to me. Things like all street lights sitting on poles over intersections, instead of being suspended by wires like they are here.

I was visiting extended family that my parents are close to, but that I have met only once briefly, when I was a teenager. There were a lot of people to meet but quickly it became apparent that this was my family. I can’t even begin to describe the conversation I had with my cousin – we stayed up until 4am one night (much to our shock, when we went to bed and looked at the clock!) just talking about pregnancy and birthing and breastfeeding… and loss. It is so wonderful to connect with someone who feels the same way I do. The fact that she is family is even better. I am so sad that I didn’t connect with this side of the family sooner. I grew up feeling like an outcast, a weirdo… how different would it have been if I hadn’t felt so alone? (As a point of note, depression also runs in this side of the family – something I was not aware of until years after I myself was diagnosed. The one time this family member saw me it was in the midst of my worst depression and I set of alarm bells in her head.)

It was, of course, wonderful to see my parents and sit and talk. I stayed up late and got up early and tried to cram as much into four days as I possibly could. I feel very down now. I am feeling a little homesick. I am feeling frustrated beyond words with my crappy old I-wish-I-could-bulldoze-it house. I am tired, but haven’t been sleeping well. And I am really quite lonely. Returning to my life is depressing.