Dad's Birthday Party ~ Feels Like Family

July 26, 2011

I totally did not plan to blog my Dad's birthday but when I saw the photos and the story they told I just couldn't help myself.

When my parents first moved to Nova Scotia four summers ago they knew no one. Having lived their whole adult lives (and in my mom's case - her entire life) in one province they decided in their mid fifties to wind down their business (the thing my Dad had been doing for over twenty five years), pack all their belongings, say goodbye to a lifetime of family and friends and move east.

They moved, in part, because both Brad (my brother) and I had settled in the eastern North American hemisphere. Nova Scotia was driving distance to their grandchildren.

But more importantly than that, my parents needed a change. A big one, it turns out. 

Their life in small city Nova Scotia resembles little on the surface to their life in small city Alberta.

Here the roads twist and wind, hugging the edge of the water. There the roads cut straight through fields of waving grain. 

Here the culture is steeped in centuries of history and very much connected to the water. There the culture feels a bit upstart with the decidely "can-do" spirit of the west. 

My parents seem to fit well into both of these.

They are adventurous souls and aren't afraid to build community and a connection of friends wherever they are. The party this weekend for my Dad of  close friends and family, four years into their Nova Scotia adventure, is a testament to that. 

But there's an ironic twist to the story. The coincidence that isn't coincidence.

Prior to my parent's move, our only familial connection to the east was historic Pier 21 (Canada's version of Ellis Island), where my maternal grandfather and paternal great-grandfather immigrated into Canada. Halifax was just a stopping point, a port of entry, on route to their destiny in Alberta. But that was many decades ago, before WW II and no family remained in this part of the country. 

Or so we all thought...

(Here's where Damien and I enter the story, Damien specifically).

Damien's cousin (with grown children of her own) and her husband live in Nova Scotia. Now, this cousin is a child of Damien's oldest aunt. Damien's paternal family was a large Francophone Roman Catholic brood from southern Manitoba. Lots of children over lots of years.

Which explains why Damien's cousin is actually part of my parents' generation, rather than our own.

Do you see where this is going?

A couple years ago we went to visit this cousin and her husband for New Years after spending Christmas with my parents. Damien forgot his glove there. We asked my parents to retrieve it for us on their next trip to Halifax.

And so started a friendship of the family sort that can never be planned or anticipated. And is appreciated all the more for it. 

A friendship that grows into a working relationship. A building project, then another. A friendship that surprises you with "I can't believe how well we get along and how similar we see the world" and "isn't it just ironic that Damien's glove is what brought us together". 

The western family. The eastern family. Family family. In the most unlikely of places. 

So this weekend at Dad's birthday party there was not only food, drinks, laughter (lots of laughter - it really was as fun as the photos look, my kids were over the top with the party vibe), and good friends. There was also family.  

Family. Here out east. Who would have thought?

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