The Globe and Mail
For the Saturday print edition of The Globe and Mail, Deidre wrote an opinion piece about following her grandmother’s footsteps back to her ancestral home in Zscherndorf, Germany and reuniting loved ones long-separated by an ocean.
“Sometimes, when people choose to leave everything they know and love behind for a new life, the tie between them and their homeland becomes severed. This was true for my grandmother, whose mother told her to forget her friends, family and language. Today, she cannot speak German, even though it was her mother tongue. The journey to North America was filled with trauma and turmoil, but most of all, forgetting.
We all make decisions for ourselves that ripple into the future with ramifications for our descendants. I am in the process of remembering, a conduit reuniting worlds. A family long-separated by an ocean can be made whole again. A grandchild can learn the language their grandmother forgot. You can find salvation in the country your ancestors fled from only a lifetime ago. No matter how much time and space there is between us, it’s never too late to reach out and find each other again.
My grandma recently wrote to me via e-mail: “It’s like you’re bringing my life full circle and filling in a big gap that I haven’t been aware exists in my centre. I’ve never had a sense of belonging here in Canada and it feels as though I’ve gone home through you.”
For the Saturday print edition of The Globe and Mail, Deidre wrote an opinion piece detailing how she rejoiced in a summer of cancelled events as someone fresh into recovery from alcohol.
“For too long, I romanticized alcohol and its illusionary benefits. I believed drinking was the only way I could feel uninhibited, let go, socialize and be fun or cool. It’s been hard to imagine myself existing without my favourite vice. I’ve had to continuously remind myself of all the ways in which alcohol made my life worse, of all the days I woke up hungover in agony over how I injured or embarrassed myself or hurt people I cared about the night previous, if I remembered anything at all.
Not only this, but my life was stagnant. There’s no room for growth when you’re stuck in a cycle of self-destruction. Now, without any distractions such as Pride to trick me into believing that life is more fun with alcohol, I’m better able to focus on the things that matter most to me. I see a future for myself at last, one filled with happiness and stability. By hitting pause on the regular comings-and-goings of life, the pandemic fast-forwarded me toward the achievement of my own dreams and goals.
Six months ago, I had no idea I would give up my apartment, sell everything I own and move abroad. But musings during quarantine walks with a sober best friend quickly turned into concrete plans. Soon enough, we were plotting how we’d make it across the Atlantic, so ready and willing to take a leap of faith, we bought plane tickets guessing borders would open, which they did.”