The life we leave behind

My three-year-old son Oscar pedals his trike up and down the street as fast as his little legs will spin. A couple of older girls join him for a few turns up and down the street. There are no cars on the road, it is a dead end road that ends at the bay. In the mornings the bay is often so calm it looks like liquid glass. You can stare into the bay and be almost hypnotized by the slow motion of the water. The bay is Georgian Bay and on clear days you can see Christian Island on the other side.

Our house is welcoming and bright. In the back are a herb garden and a vegetable garden. Raspberries, blackberries and blueberries grow in abundance. The large yard is surrounded by Maple and Ask trees, shading out the rest of the world.

For someone else, this house could be a little piece of paradise. For us there is an ominous background hum of debts and mortgage to be paid putting a damper on the ambiance. This was our forever house. I fervently hope this house will belong to someone else by the end of the month.