customs

On Tuesday, the winter tires went back on the little car.  It seemed strange given that the temperature reached a record-breaking 23C (73F) that day, but we’d already had one day of snow the previous week. 

Now that my anxiety over the US election has diminished somewhat (since then, I keep thinking people are celebrating Festivus early with the Airing of Grievances on social media), I can prioritize again worrying about the pandemic’s impact here in Nova Scotia.  Our Atlantic Bubble has been doing well.  But in the last few weeks, known cases have started to rise again and I have grown concerned with how Christmas travel might impact community spread. 

I had my first Christmas away from home at the age of 36 in 2000 when I was living in WA the first time.  The following year I was back in Canada, living in Ottawa, but didn’t get home until early January.  xBF and I had both lost our jobs in the Seattle area and driven to Ontario, tails between our legs, with no money, no income, and lots of debt.  We were living with his parents until we figured out what was next.  It was a low point in life.  When I arrived in Nova Scotia for a week (Mom paid for my airfare), I didn’t feel like leaving my parents’ house or visiting anyone.

While I was there, the funeral for the mother of one of my tech college classmates was held. Mom pushed me to go to the visitation and went in to the funeral home with me.  Despite my discomfort, I was glad I went and saw my friend, a lovely young woman in her mid-20’s who had just lost her mother to cancer. Because I was home at the time of the funeral and because I met another former classmate at the visitation, I had a short but impactful conversation with that classmate that helped me get back on my feet quickly.  Coincidence. Serendipity. Cause and effect.

Christmas 2010 was the last Christmas I had with my mom.  Ten years ago.  It was also the last time I decorated my home with more than a couple special candles.  This year, I’m thinking of getting a small tree.  I have one bin of ornaments and decorations that made it through the Great Downsizing of 2017.  They got sent from WA via UPS in the only box that got stuck en route—Canadian customs was VERY curious about a box of old ornaments.  I guess my description on the box implied it was an assortment of Fabergé eggs and not crocheted angels and snowflakes from the church bazaar.  I had to phone multiple times to convince authorities the items were just old used household goods that had gone into the US from Canada in 2006 and were now going back to Canada.  2020 must be the year to unpack them, think festive, and celebrate something.

References and related links:

• Festivus: the secular holiday of Festivus (for the rest of us!) is a Seinfeld reference from the 1990’s.
• xBF: ex-boyfriend.
• Christmas memories (post #107)