I walked my cousins to their school and said goodbye. The past few days I've been staying with them and spending some time together. Brief, sweet moments, playing games, catching up.
It's been almost two years since the oldest of the two arrived in Canada. In his room, which I've been sharing, I can see the soft toy beaver I gave him when he first landed in the country. Inside a little pouch I put a five cent coin, which bears the image of a beaver, minted in 2009, the year he arrived. And on his desk I saw the postcard I gave him two summers ago. A few welcoming words, and on the back of the card a colourful map of his new home land. It's the little things that say a lot, and I think he appreciates the little gifts and notes I've given him over the two years.
Though he has a younger brother, I'm a bit more concerned about the older one. He reminds me somewhat of me, kind of closed off, quiet, and bit too much of a thinker and bit too mature for his age (15 now). I guess I see my youth in him, somewhat. Perhaps it's projecting my own life and thoughts onto his life, but he doesn't seem happy here, and has a tough time adjusting. Who can blame him, especially being sent abroad, being uprooted from his familiar surroundings and transplanted to a whole new environment and surroundings. It's intimidating, alienating and can really leave a deep impression, of the negative kind, on anyone, especially a teenager just beginning to find himself in the world.
So at night, lying next to him, we chat and talk, about his life, about school, about his worries and fears. I've always wanted to be an older brother, to have someone I can take care of and help, and with him I feel that role taking root.
We said goodbye, and told them as they crossed the road to their high school. "See you in Montreal," I said. Hopefully, if things work out, the next time I see them, I can show them more of what this vast country has to offer.
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