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| Fall Splendor, acrylic, 18″ x 24″, CAN $600 |
Blog 28
Today, I publish the final blog about my first 25 years in Canada. On August 28, 1996, I finally became a permanent resident of Canada. With this new status, I received an indefinite residence and working permit. However, I have to meet Canada’s residency obligation to avoid losing the privilege. In general, I have to be in Canada for at least 730 days within five years.
Looking back to the past 25 years, I have often asked myself if I would immigrate again. For most of the time, the answer would have been no. For the longest time, I felt lost, like an outsider. I was isolated from my family and friends who were not by my side during difficult and happy times. Today’s online platforms make it easier to stay connected, but they cannot replace physical closeness.
Even though I have still strong relationships with my circle of friends, I spent many years here in Canada without any. As phone calls were expensive and video calls non-existent, I often did not have anyone to confide. Most of the time, I only had Ingo to share my experiences – a fact that almost killed our relationship. I became financially and socially dependent on him, a burden too much for both of us.
The opinion change only happened in the last five years when I felt challenged during work, and my friendships deepened. Now, I can amend the answer to maybe.
I will never know how my path would have looked if the situation was different. However, if I had stayed in Germany, I probably would have continued with long workdays in a leading capacity. I would have earned a good salary, much more than I have made in Canada so far. However, Ingo and I would have needed two full-time incomes if we even wanted to buy a townhouse or a duplex.
I would hardly have had any time for painting or other creative outlets, maybe occasionally in the evening or a couple of hours on the weekend.
I also would not have confronted my extreme animal phobia. Ingo and I would have worked too much to adopt a dog. None of my friends has a dog. My sister and a distant cousin are the only ones with a dog. I have only one other friend with a cat. I never realized this fact until now. I wonder why because you can even take your dog on a train or bus, into shops (except into grocery stores) and restaurants. Adopting our first dog, the Golden Retriever Jessie, was one of the best decisions in my life. She brought so much love and happiness into my life and opened so many doors. Before her adoption, my fear paralyzed me. Now, I can’t imagine living without a dog.
When I came to Canada, I had burnout from work. The prospect of taking time for travelling and hobbies seemed extremely attractive. However, this was not the first half of the 20th century anymore, when many women stopped working after marrying. Most of the stay-at-home women I met had newborns and went back to work after one year of maternity leave. I did not have a workplace anymore. In addition, I faced the handicap of only basic French skills in an area where French was high on the list of priorities of employers.
As I become pregnant shortly after becoming a permanent resident, these obstacles made it natural to become a stay-at-home mom. However, being a full-time caretaker did not satisfy me. I love my children, but I lost myself in the process of taking care of my family. The scale in our marital relationship drifted even further out of balance. Only when I rediscovered painting and later teaching did I become more content with my progress and life. Last but not least, through meeting other artists, I finally made trusted friends and not only temporary acquaintances.
On the positive side, I am more independent now than if I had stayed close to my parents. I would have continued to look for help from them in all kinds of situations. As my father is an architect, the moment something did not function, I had a craftsman or my dad in front of my door. In Canada, I had to find solutions and take action.
What would I do differently to make the transition easier? I was very naive when I agreed to follow Ingo to Canada. I did not know anything about the country and my chances of finding work. While I had vacationed in Europe, I only had moved to the south of Germany once for a six-month internship, during which I felt very homesick. When Ingo asked me to come with him to Canada, I was so in love that I neglected to think about the impact of living 6000 kilometres from my relatives and friends. While Ingo’s parents and siblings live in Canada, they were as foreign to me as anyone else, except they spoke German. Plus, they also lived far away from us.
If I had to decide again, I would get more information. Maybe, I could have improved my French from school before we moved, but I had no clue that Canada was even bilingual. Ingo found a job in Ottawa, and we liked the region immediately. Maybe, we should have looked for other areas of Canada where French was not such a must-have skill or where I could have used my German language skills.
In the end, the biggest reason why I cannot give a yes to the question if I would make the same decision comes back to my relationships. It makes me sad when I realize that the last Christmas with my parents and sister was in 1996 when I was pregnant with our son. I missed so many special birthdays and family celebrations and farewells. I did not go to a single wedding of my friends and cousins. Those are the things that I still regret.
However, in Canada, I love the raw nature with the many lakes and rivers. My appreciation has even grown since my plein air painting outings. However, I miss the rich culture and old German towns. I miss the Christmas markets and the German bakeries. Although by now you can buy some delicious bread and sweet baked goods also in Canada.
In Canada, I love the snowy Christmas season, although winter could end with the turn of the year or at the end of January at the latest. I cherish my new friendships, and I am grateful that I still have deep relationships with my German friends. I even reconnected with friends from my early childhood! The pandemic, though, made the human cost even more visible. I have visited my parent, who are in their eighties, for almost two years. The hardest part is the uncertainty when I can see them again. Usually, I book a flight at least six months in advance and anticipate the reunion. Now, with every news about the virus, I get more anxious about a trip to Germany.
I wish I could have it both ways: spend a couple of months in Germany (preferably January to April) and the rest in Canada. A friend once told me that you never belong anywhere once you have lived in two countries for a long time. Maybe, he was right, or perhaps, you belong to both countries.
These days, I make the best of what I have. I love our house in rural Ottawa with the trees and a pond on our property. I love the European flair of downtown Ottawa, which is close enough to visit museums and theatres. I have great friendships and love my family and my work. These are great reasons to be grateful.
For those of you who have moved around a lot, where do you feel at home?
