Greetings from my mom’s kitchen in Kingston, Ont.
I’ve been on vacation since last Thursday and will be back in the Border City on Saturday after what feels like a long-overdue visit home. It’s been two years since I was last in Kingston and just as long since I’ve seen my mom and brother. If you ask my mom, two years is far too long, and I’d have to agree.
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The trip has been wonderful so far, and I’m looking forward to visiting my aunts on my dad’s side before heading back west. When I first booked this vacation, it was supposed to start Oct. 30 to line up with my brother’s birthday. Plans changed when a friend from my cruise ship days reached out needing a wedding photographer near Ottawa on Oct. 17. WestJet happened to change my original flights, which gave me the perfect excuse to reschedule and take on the wedding.
The first few days were a blur of travel and photography. The wedding took place at a stunning vineyard outside Ottawa called Jabulani, where I learned a few things: shooting alongside seasoned videographers is a treat; my brother makes a surprisingly strong second shooter; and Ontario’s fall colours might just be the best wedding backdrop you could ask for.
Keenan drove up Friday to help me document the day, and we made the late-night drive back to Kingston afterward. The kid’s got an eye for photography and keeps his cool under pressure. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner behind the lens. My first night back was full of firsts, too. Keenan and his girlfriend recently renovated their house, which meant I got to try both a Murphy bed and a bidet for the first time. I’d recommend both.
The hug I got when we arrived at my mom’s house reminded me just how much I’d missed her — and her cooking. She still lives in the same home we grew up in, which makes every visit feel a little like stepping back in time. The memories come flooding back as soon as you walk through the door.
Since I don’t make it home often, I like to help with house and yard work while I’m here. This week, Keenan and I spent more than an hour raking leaves and cutting grass to help mom get the place ready for winter. She appreciated the help and probably got a kick out of watching us work while she prepared lasagna for dinner.
I could go on about nostalgia, but the message is simple: family matters. We may live more than 3,000 kilometres apart, but each visit feels more meaningful as the years go by. We’re not getting any younger, and moments like these are worth every mile.
Phone calls are nice, but being here — fixing what needs fixing, sharing meals and cheering as the Jays advanced to the World Series — has been just what the doctor ordered.
See you next week, Lloydminster.
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