Ever thought "what happened to my poor city/country" or something in that direction? When there is something in the news about bad things happening, when you look at images of places how they look now... the places not being the place you currently live in, of course. Ever felt something in the direction of "national pride" for another country? Or caught yourself thinking of people in your country as "them"? Can be confusing...
Seeker... I don't know how in the world you have managed to do it, but your post struck very deeply inside of me. In fact, it touched the one fundemantal issue in my current life.
I know I should be a proud, flag waving, USA USA chanting American, but I am not. I should not have the feelings I do for the US.
I have an inexplicable love, pride and respect for Canada. I
understand Canadian laws, customs and society. When PM Trudeau laughed at Trump, I had to cheer and say, Oh boy, if the Canadians are laughing at you, that's not good!
And when that driver mowed down those people in Toronto, I cried. When Madame Trudeau was found to be infected with COVID 19, I sent a get well message.
Canada is not perfect by any means. I know this.
Don't get me wrong- I don't hate the US. I have the greatest respect for the American people and the US military. I refuse to raise a hand in violence against the US. Nor do I say anything bad about the US. When someone or an event calls for the pledge of Allegiance, I bow my head in silence and mentally recite the Canadian Oath of Citizenship.
My partner, April, knows of the struggles. She understands. She told me, your writing room is your space. Decorate it as you want. So what do I do? Hang the Canadian flag on it's own wall. Before the redecorating, I had the Canadiens wall poster on another wall. And on my desk in a place of honor sat a Canadiens hockey puck I managed to catch when Andrew Shaw sent it over the glass. You bet I danced out of Bell Center that night!
I decided to do something about how I felt. I began to tap into my savings and have explored Canada. April simply shook her head at me and let me go, knowing I would come back each time.
Yet, each time I have started to leave Canada, I have fought with myself to get on the train, damnit! I have fought the desire to seek asylum or found an excuse to extend my time in Canada; the excuse of wanting to see a cultural event or a hockey game is usually the frequently used explanations. April usually sighs and tells me it's okay. Just as long as I tell her 5 days before my departure date, she doesn't get angry. It's when I don't tell her all hell breaks loose.
I didn't know anyone would address it as openly as you had, Seeker. Merci beaucoup.
-Grel
