There is something about being away that solidifies one’s sense of nationalism. Boarding the plane from Miami to Toronto, I could sense somehow that I was amongst fellow Canadians. And much as filling out yet another customs form irked me, it was somehow okay because of the little red maple leaf at the top.
Even now as we make our final descent, and the boys are beginning to stir from their deep sleep, disturbed by ear pain, I feel like I am almost home, and it feels good.
To be sure, spending five days in Honduras, and learning just a tiny bit more about the big world we live in, has been a blessing. But equally fulfilling is arriving in familiar airspace, seeing snow on the ground below, noticing the many lights and arteries of the busy city I call home, looking for Lake Ontario, and touching down on runway 33L in YYZ, just around midnight.
Even now as we make our final descent, and the boys are beginning to stir from their deep sleep, disturbed by ear pain, I feel like I am almost home, and it feels good.
To be sure, spending five days in Honduras, and learning just a tiny bit more about the big world we live in, has been a blessing. But equally fulfilling is arriving in familiar airspace, seeing snow on the ground below, noticing the many lights and arteries of the busy city I call home, looking for Lake Ontario, and touching down on runway 33L in YYZ, just around midnight.
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