It took ten years of detouring to find my way back to Penticton, the city I called home right out of high school. And, in that decade, I saw a small but valuable life in Victoria, Calgary and Kelowna. I met my husband, had a child and settled down into the role as wife and mother. Through all of that, it never once occurred to me to return, but now here, I wonder why I left.

In leaving Kelowna behind, is it possible that we passed through a sort of secondary dimension? The mere moment the iconic white lettering appeared on the sage-brush dotted mountains, the seemingly endless knot in my stomach unravelled. The rat-race was over, so was the competition with leggy blonde bombshells sporting head-to-toe Ed Hardy. Nothing remained but a slower paced lifestyle and the essence of a casual resort town.

Trading in a 1500 square foot townhouse for a two bedroom condo was, at first glance, worthy of tears shed. And, even now, I miss the Bard’s etched quote on the latte coloured wall of the dining room. With each day, my grip on the past is a little less. Eventually, it will reside in the back of my mind as nothing more than a peg on the map of places I once lived.

Until then, I live, work and breathe a new future. I enjoy the laughter of both old and new friends. Penticton quite possibly was the best decision we could have made. For now…