Dad

I get to the airport just in time, and park the car. As I step out for a brief moment to get from the parking lot to the terminal, I imagine seeing the white tail of the plane in the air, landing just as I walk across the crosswalk. Of course that doesn't happen. Of course I couldn't even see the landing plane from this angle even if it was landing right now, and there are dozens of planes landing at Pearson right this moment.

Nearly two hours later, I'm still standing in terminal 3, surrounded by a crowd of people, all waiting for people getting off flights from New York, Minnesota, Chicago, London, Amsterdam, and... Helsinki. I've seen a lot of people with Finnair tags on their bags come out already, but I tell myself I'm not worried. I know he's probably going to take longer than most people to get through customs, with the letter I've written for him, as he doesn't speak English, collect his bags, and come through the doors. But soon, soon he'll be right in front of me.

Now it's been over two hours since the flight landed. I'm worried now, I think of who I should go and ask, and I think if I leave this spot and he walks out while I'm gone, he won't see me. For a split second I think of Robert Dziekanski. I hope my dad's okay, and that he's coming through soon.

I look away for a second, then turn my face back at the doors, and there he is. Sitting in a wheelchair, right in front of me. Dad's here. He tells me the people at the airport were all really friendly, helped him with his bags, rolled him around in the wheelchair, as his knee is sore and he has trouble walking. He doesn't even seem that tired, even though he says he didn't manage to get any sleep on the flight.

We drive home and he tells me how beautiful he thinks our house is. We go to bed. The next day I think of how I've imagined his visit here will be: we'll drink beer on the patio, explore the city, hang out, have a great time together. I quickly realize it may not turn out to be that way. He says beer gives him heartburn, he doesn't feel like walking, and he doesn't do much talking. I realize how difficult it is to get him excited about things and how little he seems to enjoy the world around him. He doesn't remember things I tell him, he doesn't seem interested, and he has an annoying habit of responding to things I tell him by acting like he knows all about it already. We get up early the next day and take the ferry to Toronto Island to go fishing. He realizes how we may not be able to catch any fish on a hot day like this, right in the heart of the big city, and he acts disappointed. I try to tell him that whether we catch fish or not is not the point - being together is the point. I'm not sure he understands what I mean, though his answer is "yes, of course." I rent us a quadricycle and we ride to Ward's and back. I can't quite tell whether he likes it or not.

The next day he's sick. He's got a sore throat, his head aches, he's tired, he lies on the couch and coughs. I understand he's 74, he's jetlagged, and he's got a cold. But now he doesn't talk even as much as he did on the day before. I think he acts weird around other people, making them feel uncomfortable, and I start to worry - what if it gets worse and I have to take him to a clinic here?

But after three more days and a trip to Toronto Zoo, he's starting to get the hang of things. He's more cheerful and talkative. He goes on walks around the neighborhood on his own, and twice to the Vietnamese restaurant around the corner, where he enjoys the sizzling shrimp in a sweet and sour Thai sauce. He does the dishes and takes my garbage out. He paints the window sills and plays card games with us.

On the Thursday he's due to take his flight back, we drive to the airport again, have dinner together there, then check him in on the flight. I look at the monitor screen with the list of departures, and look again, because it feels good to see a direct flight to Helsinki on the list at Pearson. It's the beginning of September, and the last week of Finnair's direct flights before the connection closes for the winter. I take him to the special assistance deck and he cries big crocodile tears as we hug each other before it's time for him to go. I figure it's not a good time for me to start crying now too. In 12 hours he'll be back home in Kangasala.

I drive home alone. The air feels cool, crisp, and clear. Just like in Helsinki.

Our House

Täytyy tunnustaa, että ennen kuin tänään kirjauduin sisään blogiini, en edes muistanut, miten kauan siitä on aikaa, kun viimeksi kirjoitin. Pelkäsin, että aikaa oli kulunut paljon enemmänkin kuin vajaa vuosi. Ehkä taas jatkossa muistan päivittää kuulumisiani tänne vähän useamminkin.

Aika paljon on tapahtunut sitten viime vuoden. Ostimme hiljattain Torontosta talon, jota emme ihan vielä virallisesti omista, mutta kesä-heinäkuussa remontoimme ja muutamme. Kun lainakorko on sidottu viideksi vuodeksi eteenpäin ja talo on toki merkittävä investointi, niin tämä päätös tarkoittaa käytännössä sitä, että asetumme nyt aloillemme Torontoon useammaksi vuodeksi. Se tuntui aluksi todella hyvältä ajatukselta, sillä viihdyn täällä tällä hetkellä oikein hyvin.

Mutta eilen minut valtasi pieni epäusko. Jos pysymme täällä vielä viisi vuotta, niin olemme asuneet Kanadassa yhteensä yksitoista vuotta. Se on pitkä pätkä omaa elämääni, ja perheeni ja ystävieni elämää Suomessa. Joka vuosi en varmasti pääse vierailulle Suomeen kolmea kertaa kuten viime vuonna, saati yhtäkään kertaa, joten yhteydenpito on sähköisten viestimien ja sen toivon, että saamme tänne vieraita Suomesta, varassa.

Mutta takaisin taloon. Innolla odotan. Siis odotamme. Niin remonttia, muuttoa, omaa takapihaa, ja kaikkia niitä mahdollisuuksia, jotka oma talo tuo verrattuna vuokra-asuntoon. Kesä alkaa taas, ja siitä tulee varmasti vähintään yhtä lämmin (kuuma) ja tekemisen täyteinen kuin kesät täällä aina ovat. Ja Suomesta vielä se, että niin paljon kuin sitä omaa, minulle rakasta ja mielessä elävää Suomeani sekä kaikkia läheisiä kaipaankin, niin siihen arkipäivän Suomeen, mikä se on, ei ole vielä kauhea kiire. Nautimme ensin elosta täällä hieman pidempään. Nostan tänään simalasin korkealle talon kunniaksi.