Life
Spring
You may think that because Canada is a northern country of long and harsh winters, our smells are only of cold, frozen earth, snow, and ice. Or maybe what comes to mind are the bland smells of a clean, safe city: the smell of a coffee shop here, the concrete mix of new construction there, the pot from your neighbours’ balcony as soon as it’s warm enough to open your living room windows.
Lessons from the Past
When Sebastian and I were in our twenties, we built a boat. It was a Glen L 14: a 14-foot wood and Fiberglas blue sailboat with shiny varnished seats and bright, white sails.
Revenge Fantasy
Last May, annual inflation in Venezuela reached 24,600 percent. In one abstract, swift declaration, my mom’s monthly university professor salary became the equivalent of a dozen of eggs, or $2.70 US.
Prelude
In Venezuela, dreams are shared, often over coffee first thing in the morning. In a quiet voice, before the sun is up, we share our inner world, the rich lives we live at night, with our eyes closed.
A Healing Mind, a Healing Heart
I once wrote, without really believing it, that perhaps laughter is finite. I was once the chubby kid who danced in the middle of the kitchen to make her parents laugh. But I had forgotten what deep, carefree laughter sounded like, and for a while, it felt like I had used mine all up.
Summertime
I moved to Canada when I was 19. It all happened because of love. I married my husband Sebastian, 21, and five days later, I left my family, my friends and my country forever. The marriage was a condition for me to move to Quebec, Canada, where Sebastian’s family had moved a year before on a family immigration program. The day Sebastian told me that the papers from Immigration had arrived and that they would be moving in just a few months, I started crying. I didn’t cry because I knew I would be away from him; I cried because I knew right there and then that I would be leaving my family to be with him — there was no question in my heart that this was what I would do.
The Things We Love 