Remembrance of Things Past

I spent Spring Break visiting my family in the Silicon Valley, a place I’ve been going to for 15 years (though what was a 5 hour flight is now a 5 hour drive). Driving along the US101 South, heading back to LA, I sang to myself:

All the leaves are brown, and the skies are gray

I’ll be safe and warm, when I’m in LA

It felt funny to think of LA “home”.

Was LA my home? Or was it my aunt’s house in the Bay Area? But then what about my beloved city of Toronto?

They say home is where the heart is but if you’re like me, you leave little pieces of your heart scattered wherever you go. Then you spend parts of your life scurrying back trying to find those pieces, hoping to make yourself whole again.

Which reminds me of another favorite, Walls by Tom Petty:

Some things are over, some things go on

A part of me you carry, a part of me is gone

I feel like I’m living a life torn between NorCal and SoCal, West Coast and East Coast. Let’s not even consider my Indian and Parisian roots. My boss in Ottawa was surprised to learn from another colleague that I spoke French before I learned English — he asked her what my French accent was like, “Is it Parisian or Quebecois?” Her answer was quite fitting, “it’s International”.