Do you ever feel like you are watching a movie of your own life in real time?
We left our house in Stittsville around 7:30 this evening and I was at the helm of the family van, dragging the camper trailer. My honey was working on his laptop in the passenger seat finishing up some loose ends from his day at work. The kids were in their seats, DS with his guitar, and DD with lyrics saved on her ipod, ready to chime in on the singing. Rocky was curled up on the floor, zonked after a day of playing with my girlfriend’s dogs.
I carefully pulled onto the Queensway and immediately felt like my movie reel started, à la This is Your Life. We passed the Canadian Tire Place (i.e. Scotia Bank Place/The Corel Building/ The Palladium). Alfie first arrived in Ottawa 19 years ago too. Now he is leaving town and so are we. 19 years feels right somehow.
As I passed the ginormous IKEA, I couldn’t help but wonder when will be the next time I shop in an IKEA. I don’t even really *like* IKEA that much, but somehow it is nice to know it is there when you need it.
Around this time, Matthew started playing guitar and singing Hey Rosetta’s New Goodbye. I’m not sure if he planned this timing or if it happened organically but the kismet wasn’t lost on any of us…
get your things
when the morning birds are singing
cause its time to go
what’s to come only fate can show
see her move like a toreador
wielding her cloak and sword
so we’re taking the boat tonight
we’re taking our aging lives
and we’re waving a new goodbye
our arms open wide
(wide and wide-eyed)
We passed the Metcalfe exit, near our very first apartment as newlyweds. Nineteen years ago we drove to Ottawa in Chris‘ two-tone blue Ford Ranger. In 1994, within a two month time frame, we graduated from MUN, got married and moved our lives to Ottawa and a teeny, tiny apartment that would fit inside our kitchen and family room in Stittsville. We loved that apartment.
As we got closer to the east end of the 417, I had to concentrate more on the driving. There is lots of construction and towing the camper makes me a bit nervous. Before I knew it we were passed the “split” and on our way to Montreal. About 5 minutes past the split, I could see the orange glow of the sunset in my rear view mirror. And instead of feeling like we were leaving so much behind, I felt propelled forward to a new start, a new adventure, a new beginning.
Adieu, Ottawa. It’s been a blast.