Country Road, Take Me Home...

“There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.” – Nelson Mandela

I went up to the country yesterday. Now, I know that might not sound like a big deal to most of you but for me, it kind of was. I have not been up North in seven and a half years, not since July 16th, 2006, the horrible day Mack died at Lac des Sables in Ste. Agathe.

For those of you not familiar with the Montreal landscape, just a short forty five minutes away from the hustle bustle of the city, one can find themselves in the Laurentians, one of the oldest mountain ranges in the world. I grew up in this area full of forests, lakes and rivers. During my childhood, my parents rented various country homes until they finally bought our beloved country house in Ste. Marguerite. This cozy, love filled home was affectionately named, ‘The Mendarosa’ and we spent joyful weekends and vacations there with family and friends. In my late teens, I had begun to go up on weekends with friends when lo and behold, my parents decided to sell. And so ended an era. I always had a love for the area and some summers later, I rented a country house with a group of friends and we had a hell of a time. I actually met my husband David that summer but that’s a whole other story.

My love affair with the Laurentians ended the day my son died. I broke up with it and have not looked back since but it is a part of me and lately, I have felt a longing to revisit. My closest friend and her husband have a country home and she has been asking me to come up there on a regular basis. Although I have refused every time, I have also told her to never stop asking and she never has. Last weekend, I bought a pair of snowshoes and mentioned it to her while we were on the phone. Once again, she said to me that she wished I would come up and go snowshoeing with her and I don’t know what it was…maybe because it’s a new year, maybe because I’m in the head space for it; I can’t put my finger on it and frankly, I don’t care what the rationale is but I told her that I just might come up. The more I thought about it, the more I actually found myself wanting to go. I told myself that it wasn’t summer so I wouldn’t have to stare at or go into a lake and that made it easier. I talked it over with David and we decided to go, me with my snowshoes and him with his new cross country skis.

And what a nice day we had. Because the weather was rainy and surfaces were icy, I was the only one who ventured out to snowshoe. I had a great time and got in a good workout which saves me from having to get to the gym today. We spent the rest of the day and evening hanging out ‘en famille’ and having dinner together. It felt nice to be there, my emotional state of mind was in check and mentally, I was in a good place. I completely enjoyed myself. What sticks in my mind is what my daughter Ruby said to me some time after Mack died. I’ve mentioned it before but it still resonates so strongly with me. We were discussing swimming and by then, she knew that I was not on great terms with water. She was around ten years old  but sounded so much older when she turned to me and said “It’s not the water’s fault that Mackie died”.

She was right then and she is still right today. I can’t blame all of the Laurentians for what happened to my son. I don’t know if I will visit in the summer, I’m not even thinking about it. I rekindled my friendship with the ocean almost a year ago (http://greymourning.com/2013/03/06/rekindling-an-old-friendship/) but I’m still very distant with lakes. I know that I won’t go to Lac des Sables for a very long time, if ever again but it was nice to be up North in the winter. It was even nicer to be up North in the winter with my friend. Thank you Mir for not giving up on me.