They say you only miss something or someone when they're gone. To truly appreciate what you have is to be without it for a while. That's kind of where my relationship with my hometown is. Leaving when I was 12 and returning some 35 years later, only to discover that in a lot of ways I had never really left at all.
It took me almost 12 years, as long as I lived in Bangor, to really feel that Toronto was home. Looking back now it's become clear to me that the 8 years I spent in Dublin (see blog1) were a transition period that prepared me for that thing called emigration. And these were important years, my teenage years, spent with my mother and sister at my grandparents house in Clontarf. Where I discovered myself and where I made some wonderful friends, who to this day I am in touch with. And it was a much gentler time than my early childhood in Bangor. A time mostly remembered for the terrible domestic strife that was my parents marriage. So by the time I left for Canada I thought the world was at my feet and it was time to put my foot on the gas and embark on the latest adventure down life's highway. Why not, I was 21 and it was my adventure, it was my independence day. As I write today, I'm certain that I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I live today in a city where the world lives, many cultures and many languages living together for the most part harmoniously. I also have rediscovered my Bangor roots after years of silence, which are a lot deeper than I could have ever imagined. It's almost like I'm speaking a second language for the first time. As promised in last week's blog here is a brief review of John Cale's shows in Toronto last week: "BRILLIANT!" Told you it would be brief! To be continued...
Posted :: Thursday 11/17/2005 8:03:00 AM