Our tree, in Old Strathcona
I'm a bit nostalgic, and while some may say that considering the past is a form of dwelling, I see it as a means of gathering the material of oneself. I am who I am because of my experiences, and for that, I am thankful to be who I am today. How often do we take time to be thankful for who we are?
When I say that "we've" come so far, most definitely, I am referring to my fuzzy companion, Breakfast Jones. It's incredible to think that he has been in my life now for over four years, and has never failed to make me smile every single day. It hasn't been an easy journey (having moved three times in the last three years), but he has shown me that anywhere can feel like home; so long as there is a blanket or ray of sunshine to curl up in at the end of the day. If he could understand English, I'd say it has been an honour, being his best friend. I don't think he finds me half bad either.
There is a strange feeling inside me, that is convinced this will be our last winter in this city. It's a very strange and almost dizzying sensation, especially when I see myself taking that thought more seriously; that we are on our way toward bigger and better things. In a way, it has helped me look forward to the approaching season; for the sake of taking it all in before it's over. I've never felt this way before. Change is very cool.
There will come a day when we will no longer be able to sit under what has become "our tree", but until then, we will continue to visit, and revisit our thoughts/memories. It's nice to walk away from something that was once so unfamiliar, and remind myself that I have so much to be thankful for. With all that I've experienced, with all that I've learned, with all that I've taken with me, to be stored in the teeny compartments that make up my heart, I feel I'm a pretty clever, determined (another word for stubborn), sensitive, grounded, and appreciative person.
Thanks me, you're alright.