38th Anniversary – Where Has the Time Gone?

aberfoyle millThirty-eight years ago today, the dh and I tied the knot.

Our wedding ceremony was held in our college hometown of Guelph, Ontario. My family and a few Trinidadian friends flew in a couple of days beforehand and we all ate dinner at the restaurant where the dh proposed, The Aberfoyle Mill, back then the only option for fine dining. Quaint, isn’t it? Since we’re heading to Canada tomorrow, we’re thinking of dining there again.

Most of the day is a blurred memory for me. I recall our official photographers, an English husband and wife team—Gordon and Tina, plied me with champagne as we, my bridesmaids, mom, and I dressed. We lived in a tiny apartment back then, and Gordon went door-to-door in the neighborhood, until one homeowner gave us his permission to use his backyard for the pre photos.

My BFF’s boyfriend was in charge of getting my dad to the church. Turns out his car had a hole in the floor, which had my father totally perturbed! Two of my brothers were groomsmen, and my aunt, who’s two years younger than me, was one of my four attendants. It was a lovely day, the temps were in the low 70s, and there was a brisk breeze.

We had a great time. There was a sit down dinner with the usual speeches, and my dh’s BFF was master of ceremonies—we’ll be visiting with him and his wife on our trip. The Trinis partied down the place. There is such a thing as ‘last call’ in Canada and bars aren’t allowed to serve alcohol after 13:AM. My dad bribed the bartenders, the hall stayed open, and serving drinks until 4:30 that morning. We left with the last guests.

It’s been three decades and more, and there’s no one whose company I’d prefer to keep than my dh’s. He’s my best friend, my lover, my hero, and my partner. Together we’ve raised three sons who are all financially independent (whew! Wiping the sweat from my brow on that one!), and the two of us are thoroughly enjoying our ‘empty nest.’

Life’s darned great these days.

About the only thing I’d change is having my middle son, the wayward one, living on the west coast. But, he’s a happy Googler (what Google employees call themselves) and he loves his job and location.

Have a happy hump day!



P.S. I’m going to look at house exhanges for Mountainview, California.


Going Back Home

Trinidad - vew from 17 072813Home. The word has so many different meanings for so many people. It’s challenging if you’ve lived in more than one place and downright confusing if you’re an immigrant, like me. Though my mother gave birth to me in Georgetown, Guyana, we moved to Trinidad when I was five, and I spent most of my formative years in that country. At sixteen and a half, I headed off the college to the University of Guelph in Canada. There, I met and married my Dutch-born husband. We lived in various parts of Canada for over seven years before moving to Trinidad.

My kids were born in Trinidad and Tobago and we spent fourteen incredible years there before, once again, changing countries. To date, we’ve lived in Florida for thirteen years. As I write this blog, I am back home.So where is home? I’ve come to believe it’s where your parents lived during your formative years. I am blessed to have my mother with me still, but I wonder if Trinidad will still be home when the inevitable happens.

My three boys are divided on the subject. They spent every summer while we were in Florida in Trinidad. They have friends here as do we, yet, for them home is Florida. And as for my poor hubby, he calls both Canada and Trinidad home. Truth be told, he’s way more Trinidadian than I’ll ever be. He took to Trini like a duck to water.

I haven’t been back to Trinidad in ten years and the changes are incredible. The country is not the one I remember and I feel like a stranger. So, have I come home? Or is that definition changing?

Where’s your home?




P.S. The pic is of the view from my mom’s home and the house where I lived in my early