It is exactly 8 years and 10 months that I have left my home country for Canada. I decided to study and stay in Montreal while my sister had been already moved to Toronto a year earlier. Saying goodbye to my family in Tehran and getting on a plane to fly to an unknown land has been the hardest moment I have been through till today since part of me, part of my heart left me and stayed in that city forever. My sister and I were quite lucky as our parents visited us shortly after my departure and also they decided to spend half of their retirement in Canada and the other half in our homeland.
The only issue we had was my brother who had difficulties to get a tourist visa with an Iranian passport and his immigration paper would take a couple of years.
As I am writing now I just said goodbye to all of them and to an awesome weekend in Toronto, full house with the whole family, for the birthday celebrations. After 10 years that we always missed one or two members we finally gathered to spend a quality time with our loved ones. But these moments never decrease the paint that I have everytime I say goodbye to them. Yes we are only 6 hours apart and comparing to so many friends and family around us we don’t have to travel for 24 hours to see each other. But we are still living apart and something is missing. I don’t know what it is but I am curious to figure it out.
This feeling is not new at all. I am used to a bit of tears as I am getting on the train and I have accepted the pain which has been following me after the very first time in Tehran’s airport.
I know one thing though that recently I care much more about the casual moments that I used to. I know I am too sensitive to spend my time to the fullest and that is why I want to find my passion and maybe that is why being away from the loved ones is becoming more painful. Yes I believe to celebrate the occasions to make the minutes into moments but I guess we are all worthy of amazing moments in every day of our lives.