‘I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed- and gazed- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.’

“I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud” by William Wordsworth

 

 

I was five years old when my mother took me to get my ears pierced. I remember that pain was so exciting because it represented my maturity. When we were driving back she told me that my father would be moving out of our home and into a different one with his new girlfriend. I remember that pain was all embracing because it represented my insignificance.

The next year, on my sixth birthday, my mother asked me what I wanted to do. I asked her if my father could come over and we could all go for a bike ride. She had barely seen him since they finalized their divorce. So, she listened to my request, didn’t say anything, and went into the next room and dialled my father’s new home number.

We went on the bike ride, but uneasiness hung in the air, heavily. The outing was forced, almost like my parents were actors that I had hired for the day. We rode for two hours, and my parents waved goodbye. After that, they never spent time together, and I never asked them to.

From then on, my life would ramble on in twos. I would inhabit two homes (half the week at my mother’s and half at my father’s), have two versions of Christmas, and be governed under two independent parents, with two very different parenting methods. Sometimes this would work to my advantage. For example, my father let me watch Simpsons, but my mother did not. My mother would let me choose the music in the car, but my father only listened to talk radio. With this, my only constant was British Columbia. No matter where they moved to, I still was able to reach the same forests, and swim in the same waters.

As I grew, I would begin spending half the week with one, and then half with the other. My mother always said this life was easy for me because I am a Gemini.

‘You mind is already in two, so this is nothing,’ she would tell me as I packed my bag to head to my dad’s. And, she was right. It never felt awkward for me to jump around.

However, a year and three days ago, I moved to England. I was very tired of constantly sailing between places, and I wanted to drop my anchor somewhere. I felt like I had never really had a home, because I had never had one literal house. Both of my parents moved homes frequently (my mother four times, and my father five) throughout my childhood. Then, even after I moved out of both of my parent’s homes, I lived with various friends, never touching down for too long.

Yet, being away I realize I did have a sense of home in Vancouver. Embarrassingly, this homesickness does not involve my family. I have a family of ships with no anchors. When we pass, it is so lovely and familiar, but we all know it is fleeting.

Instead, I ache for British Columbia. I miss the mountains, the rain, and the coast. I never realized how much I carried geography in my bones. I am living in the middle of England, in a town with very few mountains. Being here has illuminated exactly what I recognize as my home.

I am not a religious person, but when I am surrounded by beautiful British Columbia, I have a very similar reaction to it as what I imagine a religious person would have towards faith. All at once, I feel how small I am, and feel immense community.

It reminds me of the poem “I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud” by William Wordsworth, where the speaker describes a scene of daffodils that has stuck with him. As I sit in England, just the thought of BC’s landscape brings me serenity and a feeling of home.

Being away has made me turn to a lot of Romantic poetry as it focuses on nature. Ironically, mostly English landscape. However, it is the values and the stories of these poets that connect me back to BC.

I was five years old when my idea of home was questioned. Since then, I felt like I had lost my sense of home. However, I think I’ve found it. It is in the mountains, valleys and lakes of British Columbia, and I can’t wait to return to them.

 

Works Cited

Conley, Dalton. “Recognizing When Kids Benefit From Their Parent’s Divorce.’ The Atlantic, http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2014/04/recognizing-when-kids-benefit-from-their-parents-divorce/284589/. Accessed 27 September 2016.

Wordsworth, William, and Antonia Till. The Collected Poems of William Wordsworth. Ware: Wordsworth Poetry Library/Wordsworth Editions, 1995. Print.