Oh, the places I’ll go (with apologies to Dr. Suess)
The places I’ve lived are like children.
Most people, if asked, will say they love all their children equally.
For me, that is true of the places I’ve lived — with the possible exception of Brampton, Ontario, which really has little to recommend it aside from its proximity to the great city of Toronto. (Dear Brampton boosters: write a letter to the editor.)
My dear readers, as astute a group as you are, you have probably guessed by now I will be moving again, maybe even by the time these words are ink on paper.
I know what you’re thinking: “Congratulations!
Today is your day!
You’re off to great places! You’re off and away!”
If I were a person prone to attaching superstition to events, I might say I probably sealed my own fate a few weeks ago when I wrote in this very space that I had no plans to leave Labrador and couldn’t see myself going back to civilization, at least not in the short-term.
I am not that kind of person. In fact, when we moved up here, I predicted our chances of staying in Postville more than two years were about 50-50. You have to understand, I have known my wife for 13 years. In that time we have moved four times, seven times if you include local moves. That is once every 3.25 years for major moves and 1.85 years all in. Before we met, each on our own, I suspect those average frequencies hold pretty true. We are kindred spirits.
Now, just because people love their children equally, doesn’t mean they don’t have a favourite, or, at least one for whom they have a greater affinity, or are more compatible with.
No offence to Ottawa, Austin, Smithers, Saskatoon and all the others — don’t ask me to enumerate them all or even count them for that matter — but Postville, Labrador, is that child of mine.
Of course, that might be like saying my favourite painting is the one I just finished, but I am truly going to miss this place.
That being said, I could not be more excited about where we are going.
Almost exactly one year ago, on vacation, Lorraine and I visited the Northern Peninsula on the island of Newfoundland and were extremely impressed. In fact, when we stopped in St. Lunaire-Griquet, we both remarked, almost simultaneously, and in similar enough words, “Wouldn’t it be incredible to live here?”
Now, we will. Well, in St. Anthony, but close enough.
Again, if I were the kind of person to ascribe metaphysical meaning to physical events, I might remark that “things happen for a reason.”
Again, I am not. Things do happen for a reason, but usually the reason is physics, or biology.
Another trite observation for this coincidental circumstance might be: “What are the chances?”
Well, in fact, Ladbrokes of London had a move to St. Anthony within three years handicapped at 3:2. Vegas had us at 2:1.
It’s pretty easy math. Given our above-described history, the chances we would be moving, sooner rather than later, to somewhere, were pretty good. And if we were to move, the odds it would be to the island were high since that was all part of the long-term plan when we left Saskatchewan. Factor in Lorraine’s commitment to Labrador-Grenfell Health and the potential destinations are narrowed to a few Labrador and Northern Peninsula communities.
Bingo. St. Anthony it is.
I have written on several occasions about how it is precisely the things that make living here on the edge of the world inconvenient that also make Postville attractive — the “undocumented features” as I called them a couple of columns ago.
I am hoping, and have pretty good reason to believe, the Northern Peninsula will offer the best of both worlds. It is both remote and connected.
We will soon find out and maybe I will have a new favourite child. Regardless, we will succeed (98 ¾ per cent guaranteed).
Disclaimer: This is supposed to be a fun, op-ed piece and in no way reflects on my actual children, whom I love equally and with no favouritism.