Summer 2006

My favourite image of the summer has to be of my 5 year old daughter Eva and her best friend Leila. They couldn’t be more different physically. Leila’s hair is a tousled mop of bouncy, rich dark curls. Her skin is luminous. Her eyes are impossibly dark with incredible lashes. Her body is already athletic. And when she runs she juts her torso forward almost begging her legs to keep up.

Eva has long, very straight blonde hair. With big blue eyes and ruby lips. She is tall and lean and runs with the same will to get there fast. Despite their physical differences, they could teach the world a thing or two about how to behave. When one gets in a funk it rarely disintegrates into anger or tears. Instead the other will make a joke and they laugh and giggle in a way only girls their age can. It is the sound of angels and fairies and princesses. The sound transcends the senses. It becomes the sight of breathtaking beauty and the smell of a sweet delicacy

The image I will carry with me to Costa Rica is of the two of them, arm in arm, the sun shimmering off their hair, at the end of one of those lazy summer days. Where a morning play date extends through to an afternoon at the park, with a stop for ice cream. A thrown together dinner in the backyard. The day ending with both of them collapsing in bed for a sleep over.

And even as I revel in that moment of pure childhood freedom I feel tinges of sadness at all Eva will miss. Even at five, the joy of a best friend is hard to replace.

And then there is Riley, our 10 year old who has pretty much worn a path from his bedroom to the neighbours house next door where three boys live---kids Riley has known his entire life.

He can jump on his bike or skateboard --meet up with friends at his school around the corner. The new thrill of being allowed to go solo to the toy store or the bookstore to spend the money he made from dog walking, babysitting and weeding. The trips to Kensington market to skateboard at Adrift.

And I know he will miss his soul mate Carolyn, best friends since the age of 2 when they met at the park. I knew they’d be friends forever when Riley whacked her on the head and she turned around and whacked him back, maybe even a little harder! Despite the gender difference, it’s been like that ever since. Except now it’s all about burping and farting contests, and most recently: experimentation with hip hop and rap and sideways caps.

There will even be adjustments for Paulie who’s just two and probably the most adaptable. Every morning he asks for Marno, the 1 and a half year old son of our incredible caregiver Marivic. A woman who inspires me to be a better mother through the patience, love and laughter she shares with her own kids and mine as well. When they come in the morning, Paul covers Marvin (aka Marno) with kisses and hugs. Patting his hair, giving him toys and loving him the way he might a younger brother. Marivic’s 8 year old son Andre is the big brother Eva wishes she had when hers is being especially horrible.

And because Eva, Riley and Paulie Pocket are my children, I will absorb their losses too when we get on that plane. They have so many adventures ahead of them, but it does come at a price.

Steve and I have will be making sacrifices as well. I’ll miss the community that has helped me raise my children. The park where I have spent endless hours watching them play. The stores along the Danforth where I am greeted by name. The friends who have brought real meaning and happiness to my life.

But most of all I’ll miss my mum, who lives about an hour and a half outside of Toronto. I talk to her almost every day, out of desire, not obligation. I need her now as much as I did when I was a little girl. I share with her everything that happens in my life. And in exchange she gives me the greatest gift: she is free of judgement. Always has been, no matter what mistakes I’ve made. The only thing that makes leaving her easier is that I know her life is so rich. So full of passion for what’s happening in her community and in the world. She is a true activist. Committed to making a difference.

I’m also very emotional at the thought of leaving my brother Tim, who I have so much fun with. Older by less than 2 years, but much, much wiser. He LIVES his morals in a way no one else I know. His love of adventure makes what we’re doing look like a walk in the park. And yet I know he is proud of us (and might even accept some of the credit) for trying something new.

I am doing what I can to ease the transition. Leila’s mum, Emily and I have planned a “blood sister” ceremony. The girls will get their wish for pierced ears, an early Christmas present. And there are plans for a surprise visit in Costa Rica for Eva’s birthday in April.

Carolyn and her family, close friends of ours, are coming to visit for a couple of weeks in March and I’ve promised Riley he can come home next summer for a month of camp to reconnect with his friends.

And for Paulie and Steve and I? I hope with all my heart we can convince Marivic to come for a visit. Let US take care of HER for a while.

i have no doubts that my mum and brother will come for extended visits. And I may even see more of my rock star sister, who lives on a rollercoaster.

Through these uneasy months just before and after we leave, I’ll try to remember what I have told my kids. There are many things we can’t take with us. But we can leave with hearts that have been filled to the brim by those who mean so much to us.