Lonely snow

First snow in Ottawa today. Not much, just a coating on cars and roofs, mostly, but it stayed cold enough that even at evening rush hour I could still see cars with ice and snow sliding off their roofs and trunks.

And though the purple sled sits ready in the garage, there is no little boy to ask eagerly about its employment. There is no little voice full of excitement at the window, no one shouting "Look, Daddy, snow!" over and over again, while I nod and say "Yes, that's right; it snowed." Instead, I am alone in a silent house, silent save for whatever noise I choose to make or what tunes I elect to crank up. Everyone else is gone. And they are not coming back.

It is hard to fathom the immensity of this development. Watching them walk through the gate at the airport was devastating, even though I knew it was the only right choice for us to make. Now they are all safe, with family, being cared for and loved, far from this land that, through no real malice, proved so inhospitable to out fragile little family.

I am gradually becoming studious again, pushing the pain and terror to the background, trusting in the wisdom of others. I am determined to finish what I have started, if at all possible. Even though everything has changed suddenly, one thing is unaltered: all our plans and dreams of the future are predicated on my completion of this course of studies. I don't intend to plunge blindly ahead, but if at all possible, then I needs must continue somehow through these next three years in order to make possible the better life that we have imagined together for our young family.

But only time will tell.