Out With The Old

Spending time in Ottawa over the Holidays, I realized that the passage of time is deceiving. It doesn't seem like much has changed, until it becomes obvious a lot has. I got a lift from a high school friend back to my hometown. This was a bit reluctant on my part, as I had sworn off road trips after some disastrous voyages. No more being at the mercy of egoistical drivers!

But aside from having to jam my limbs into any available spot due to an excess of luggage, it was a pleasant trip. Eating junk food, listening to music, reminiscing about the good old days, the deepening twilight as a snow-covered Ottawa came into view, it was a blast from the past. This was a bit of faux nostalgia though, as we had never travelled together before.

Unlike recent brown winters, this was the Ottawa of yore, with hip-high snowbanks and trees laden with the fluffy white stuff. Christmas dinner with the whole clan had all the familiar food and decorations, my family was never one to throw out anything: even cheap plastic trees and ornaments. But it was a shock realizing my oldest cousin is now engaged and the youngest one is heading off to university next fall. When I left Ottawa, they were finishing high school and starting pre-kindergarden.

Boxing Day was at my brother's, as he fed the kinfolk and showed them his new house. My goofy younger sibling, whom my grandma feared was insufficiently serious, was now a proud dad and owner of a suburban home, complete with den and playroom.

My last dinner in Ottawa was at an old friend's, we had known each other since elementary school. He was utterly domesticated, with wife and child. This was no surprise, since I see him several times a year. But looking at his wall of Christmas cards, full of university friends I haven't stayed in touch with, in their Christmas finery alongside spouse and 1, 2 or even 3 offsprings, it didn't seem that long ago that we all were cramming for exams, whooping it up in the Byward Market bars, and full of future plans.