August 2022
Southern England
We are at a music festival. Only England can do music festivals like this: quirky, vibrant, diverse, full of colour and exuberance.* Living in Canada for the last 20 years has robbed us of the music festival scene, and so we soak it up, Husband Lee and I. It is one of the things we miss about living away from our homeland. I saywe but I meanI; Lee doesn’t live his life the way I do, hankering after places or things. He doesn’t have takotsubo syndrome either. Just saying.
We arrive at the festival en masse, a group of friends that includes our grown-up daughter and her soon-to-be-husband, bags stuffed with hidden gin and tonics. We might be middle-aged but we still know how to party on the cheap.
As we dance and drink and laugh and sing, I feel lucky to have a group of friends in two countries. I have managed over the past 20 years to keep my best friends in England, while cultivating a whole new friendship group in Canada. It is one of the things I am most proud of as an expat.
Being an expat has not been easy for me. For those 20 years I have kept one foot planted firmly in both countries, and that has ensured a level of constant homesickness, financial ruin and exhaustion that only an expat, or perhaps a convict, will understand. Or maybe I have just been spectacularly bad at it: never fully committing to living in Canada; hanging on to my English roots; never really letting go, like a mother fiercely clinging to her child well into adulthood. (Oh wait, I do that too. I am the mother who still needs to know where her 35 and 26 year-old ‘children’ are at all times.)
But there is also a level of excitement about it, in an emotionally and financially draining way. The frequent flying across oceans; the relentless emotional goodbyes at airports; the constant change. It’s a jet-set lifestyle, in this case without the glamour or exotic destinations. Mine is the kind of jet-set lifestyle where I am permanently broke, exhausted and in a state of unrest. Yet I thrive on the thrill of it all. I am a dual citizen in every sense.
But in this, the summer of 2022, as I take yet another foray into my ‘other’ life in England, I have no way of knowing that it will be the weekend when my two worlds will collide, and set about the process of breaking my heart.
Lee and I are here for a friend’s wedding. I am also here to indulge the thi