O Canada!

Happy 156th Canada! Like many others, I’m very proud to celebrate today and to sport the red and white.  It’s been horribly smoky again — it looked like a horror movie this morning, with the sky being a sickly yellow colour from the dense smoke — and visibility is very reduced.  We’re in the middle of a very impressive thunderstorm now, with a tornado warning for the region until after midnight, so it seems that turbulent weather is the forecast for Canada’s birthday, after mine had its own downpours!

I didn’t go out into the crowds out celebrating for 2 well-documented reasons.  The first is that I don’t like crowds and I avoid them whenever possible.  The second is that the area where the celebrations are taking place is too far for me to be able to walk easily, and the closest parking spots are… well, in my garage!  It used to be that I loved this area for its walkability, but these days my walks are restricted.  I won’t gripe about it, it’s just an observation.  Jerry is being very affectionate — he’s not affected by thunderstorms or fireworks, thankfully, but he’s uncomfortable with the high winds that accompany storms.  When we have the winds, he tries to hide himself under one of us and it’s funny to see him trying to dig a hole in the sofa to hide.  Don had a headache and upset stomach yesterday, but is much better today.  He’s glued to sports since this morning.  Would you believe that there’s hockey in July?  I thought that a lack of snow would deter a winter game, but apparently not!  I don’t get it.

Because it’s Canada Day, there have been a number of special citizenship ceremonies taking place around the country.  My swearing in ceremony, which was 20 years ago next month, is still something that I consider very special.  I’m happy to recall the speech by the judge, and the thrill that I felt when I swore the citizenship oath for the first time.  I’ve attended other ceremonies over the years; one that was led by my late, dear friend John, who was immensely proud of his appointment as a judge about a year before his diagnosis and later death.  I’ve watched my sister and sister-in-law get sworn in, other friends, and celebrated with each of them.  I’ve watched people sobbing with joy as they swore, and a look of immense pride and happiness spread over the faces of new citizens.  Collectively, I think that we’re all more than happy to have made the choice to be here.  I actively encourage people to get their citizenship once they’re eligible, especially when this has become their home.  (Some, who saw it only as a convenience to their lives I’m much less enthusiastic around.  They are, thankfully, a minority in my experience!)  One of my nurses got sworn in this year, and he and his wife see it as the start of their new lives (especially since they also qualified to buy a house and he got his Canadian RN certification all within a month)

I’ve lived here most of my adult life now, and it’s a running joke with my family and friends that I’ve been Canadianized, except for the accent.  It’s true that my thinking has changed significantly since I came here; it’s more liberal than it was, and more aware of the fact that the world is a huge place with a variety of peoples and food, but it’s also a small society where we have more in common with each other than otherwise.  I’m happy to be part of this mosaic that is Canada, where enjoying the variety of cultures is welcomed and encouraged, as opposed to requiring people to conform.  The regular debate on “what makes a Canadian” goes on with no clear consensus, except perhaps respect for multiculturalism, celebration of diversity and welcoming differences.  Frankly, though, as our population grows, there is growing evidence of xenophobia, which I find disturbing, and a number of people who are adopting the worst of American style race based politics.  Let’s hope that doesn’t get entrenched; I love my diverse, welcoming Canada too much to want to see it turn into a “whites only” place.  That would exclude the indigenous peoples, those of us who’ve made this a home and our children.  

Now that the  storm has died down, I feel drained… I’m drowsy and occasionally dozing off on myself.  So before I drop something, I think I’ll go take my first round of meds and rest before my chemo meds are needed.  Good night!