Bay Shore Road

BayshoreRoad

As I walk home from the grocery store
I see a sign
I haven’t seen before.

Bay Shore Road.

I drop through the basement of time
where I’m a teenager
and my grandparents
have just moved from the small grey house
on the Rideau River
to a two bedroom apartment
in the west end of Ottawa.
A condominium on Bayshore Drive.

We are not apartment people,
my farming family.
When they bought their condo,
I had never been inside an apartment.

It felt like playing house.

My grandmother loved it.
She filled the space with antiques
and plants
and sunlight,
all her favourite things,
but the place was also small
which meant it was easy to clean.
{That’s what she told me.}

Once,
during a weekend visit,
my grandmother said,
“Why don’t you walk up to the mall.”
I had never been to a mall by myself
but if she thought it was okay
it most certainly was
so I followed Bayshore Drive
several big-city-blocks
to the shopping centre
where I bought a small brown purse
and a chocolate milkshake.

In the entire history of teenagers,
no one
has ever felt
so
grown up.

Now I live in Japan.
Now I live in an apartment
on the 22nd floor
near Bay Shore Road.
 

2 comments

    1. Oh, I love this: “We can find the circles of life everywhere if we just pay attention.”
      Yes! Thank you.

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