By Medicine Hat News on January 19, 2018.
Tears ran down my cheeks as I hugged my mom goodbye, not knowing when I would see her again. She pulled away and stroked my face with her arthritic hands, then tucked my hair underneath my kerchief. I stepped away and climbed into our rusty van, packed full of children and suitcases. My husband next to me looked deep in thought as he backed the van up and pulled out of the driveway. It had been a good Christmas, we had finally been able to make the trip to Northern Mexico to visit family after moving away three years earlier. I waved at my dad, standing tall and proud with a kind twinkle in his eye. He put his arm around my mom as we drove away, the dusty road making it impossible for me to keep them in my rearview. The sun was just starting to peek out of the sky, making itself known as we started our three-day journey back home to the Southern Alberta prairies. I didn’t hear a sound from the children in the back, and I looked to see five heads already starting to nod off. Our immigration documents had prevented us from coming to visit sooner. My husband, a Canadian citizen, was sponsoring our children and myself into Canada. For a few years we had to pay expensive fees to keep our visitor permits valid for the children and myself. I will always remember the day the documents finally arrived in the mail. My children were now Canadian citizens and I had become a permanent resident! Joy had filled my heart as a sense of relief had washed over me. Though the process wasn’t quite over for me, I would now have to work hard and study in order to take a Canadian citizenship exam. I pushed that thought aside as it made me uneasy to think I would have complete the test in English, a language that still felt foreign on my tongue. I looked out the window and took in the beauty of the red dirt with farmhouses planted on top, the mountains a perfect backdrop. The move to southern Alberta had been easier all those years ago after seeing its similar landscape to this one. Taking this trip over the holidays certainly wasn’t the smartest decision to make based on our financial situation alone. The attendance records at our children’s school would also show some absences and my husband had missed more than a few days of work. His employer had been hesitant to let him go and only a promise of a quick and guaranteed return had convinced him. We have been so thankful over the years for the steady work and wonderful house that came with it. Not all of our friends had fared as well and I worried that we would put that in jeopardy by going on this trip. These thoughts did nothing to take away from the serenity that filled my heart. My husband and I had both been able to see our families and the children had been thrilled to be reunited with their cousins. Living more than 2,000 kilometres away from family and everything we knew growing up was the hardest part of making southern Alberta our home. What this voyage had unexpectedly shown me was that I didn’t belong here anymore. I felt like a visitor in my own home country. The house we used to own was now filled with another family’s laughter and tears. The store where I used to shop was unfamiliar. The people I used to greet in the community had become strangers. I looked again in the rearview and saw a few children starting to stir. Soon enough they would become bored and restless. They would ask an endless amount of questions and be quick to argue. The journey ahead all of sudden seemed very long, I looked forward to being home. Trudy Dyck is a community health representative with Alberta Health Services who works specifically with the Low German Speaking Mennonite population. She can be reached at trudy.dyck@ahs.ca. 6