Down Home

by Elizabeth Verwey

It was time to take my two children down home to meet their family. I had lived in Toronto for most of my life, but was eager to introduce my offspring to their extended family in Nova Scotia. We were able to stay in a favourite family cottage on the Medway River for one week this first summer.

I was excited as I had not been to this cottage in over a decade. I was eager to share it with my children as we had not been able to escape the city for years. A kind cousin picked us up at the airport and dropped us off at the cottage with groceries and a promise to stay in touch over the week.

Michael was six, Corinne just two years old, and it would be the three of us for one whole week. We were grateful that our relatives had loaned us the cottage for our trip home. We had already spread word of our "open house" to our family and friends and were eager to get some quiet time before the party.

I watched my city boy gaze up at the tree tops as he walked along the path from the road. I thought that he may fall over, those trees were so tall. I wondered how many years over one hundred these trees would be by now. And, I missed my Grandmother. She was wise about so many things and would always know this type of trivia. I was carrying my city girl on my hip as she was scared of each and every insect she met along the way. I was so happy to be there with my children. It felt so right.

Michael had run ahead and was gazing over the river. He began to sing "Oh, Canada". It was beautiful. He was not timid; he belted it out, flawlessly. The water carried my little boys voice a long way and the trees bounced his words around. I began to weep. I was home again.

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