Once upon a time, long ago and far away, I was dating this guy. After a few times out he told me “If you are going to get serious with me you have to move to a little place called Lion`s Bay, British Columbia." Why, you ask? No political motivation at all, as many assume, it was just because it was a pretty place.
"Oh," thinking about it for a second or two, "OK," I agreed enthusiastically. I was optimistic about the relationship and this raised-outside-of-NY-City girl could deal with anything.
As an aside, that picture is the Canadian flag reflected in the windows
of the vehicle next to us on the soon-to-be-defunct free Albion Ferry
(Maple Ridge to Fort Langley, BC). They've built a toll bridge to
replace it. Go figure. I'm sad about it.
We weighed our worldly goods knowing that it would cost fifty cents a
pound to transport them the 1749 miles from Omaha. Heavy, small,
sentimental items accompanied us in our car.We crossed the border as permanent residents 25 years ago on Friday. Nearly half a lifetime ago.
Well, the anything, referred to above, included a bear trap on our road, long distance calls if the police were needed and church services provided by a travelling minister. We heated our house with wood and back then the nearest grocery store was a half hour away. We couldn't go food shopping without a carsick child. Those twisty roads have now been straightened somewhat in time for the upcoming Winter Olympics.
to litres, Canadian dollars to American, and miles to kilometres. Silly me. It wasn't about the math.
Back then there was huge anti-American sentiment and being an invisible minority was disconcerting. You wouldn't believe the ignorant comments about "those Americans" without the realization that one might be in their midst. I had practice though, from my childhood, when people would talk about those Puerto Ricans, not knowing it was half my heritage.
Little by little things got better. I found a job and populated the country with two more little Canadian/Americans. The country warmed to Bill Clinton's America. In the beginning I didn't feel like I belonged here. Then there were some rocky times where I didn't feel like I belonged in the US. But now I've found a place for my dual nationality and Bob's your uncle, eh? Remember when I wrote about that?
Now it's double my pleasure. I get teary when hearing either anthem, both flags inspire me. I like poutine as much as Nathan's Famous frankfurters, junk foods at their best. We share in the sadness of all North American soldiers lost, too many these days. I have three children who have the luxury of working in two countries without the barriers of immigration. And I'm still with that guy, although after four years, I made him move closer to the city – the one that's regularly voted the most livable in the world.
Life's a Stitch 
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