This First Individual column is written by Elizabeth Nash, who lives in Kanata, Ont. For extra details about First Individual tales, see the FAQ.
It was a gray, overcast day in April and I used to be standing in a Walmart parking zone in Ogdensburg, N.Y., questioning if I ought to re-evaluate my life decisions.
I used to be assembly a vendor in a parking zone and in search of her explicit Jeep. As soon as I discovered it, I awkwardly waved to sign that I used to be prepared to gather my embarrassing buy. A lady stepped out of the Jeep sporting a T-shirt that mentioned “Scout Grandma.“ A younger lady adopted her.
“Cookies?” the girl requested, and I nodded. That one phrase summed up each why I might come all this fashion and the patriotic guilt that I felt for crossing the border from Canada to the U.S. to buy 54 packages of baked items.
I used to be there to acquire the proper cookies for my father — a cookie connoisseur who introduced his appreciation of cookies with him when our household moved from Florida to Ontario within the mid-Nineties. Dad taught me from an early age that there was a elementary distinction between Canada and our southern neighbour: The Woman Guides of Canada promote three flavours of cookies, however the Woman Scouts within the U.S. promote 12. Once we moved north, Dad bemoaned the shortage of choices. Practically three a long time later, he nonetheless misses his favourites, the Caramel deLites and the Lemonades. (He views my desire for the Toast-Yay as a minor betrayal.)
Two years in the past, I shocked Dad with a bag full of those American cookies, procured from a pal of a pal who was visiting Ottawa from Maine. The treats had been an enormous success after I took them to Guelph, Ont., whereas I used to be visiting my dad and mom. As a followup to this success, final spring Dad and I deliberate on ordering sufficient American cookies to share with our colleagues and pals.
I felt like a nasty Canadian as I put collectively this order. The place was my loyalty towards my house nation, and what about my love of vanilla Woman Information cookies? Extra importantly, ought to I not be shopping for 54 Canadian packages? Dad’s nostalgia for the cookies got here face-to-face with my need to spend regionally.
The matter was difficult by my twin citizenship. I might spent the overwhelming majority of my life in Canada, and right here I used to be, not supporting the nation the place I lived. On the similar time, maybe this was a method to discover my American roots in essentially the most scrumptious manner potential.
Then catastrophe struck, maybe in retribution for being such a nasty citizen. Our cookie contact was not capable of go to. The order was cancelled.
That is how the cookie crumbles, as they are saying.
Besides Dad would have none of it. He was in problem-solving mode. He reached out to a newspaper in upstate New York, figuring that it might have native scouting connections. He was put in contact with a girl in Watertown, N.Y., who can be visiting Ogdensburg together with her Woman Scout granddaughter within the coming weeks. That will put her about 90 minutes south of me.
Then got here the all-important query: Would I am going and choose up the cookies?
The identical guilt from earlier haunted me. I used to be a believer in supporting native communities and shopping for 54 packages of American cookies would possibly make me The Worst Canadian Ever. It could actually be hypocritical of me to speak about supporting Canadians after which pop throughout the border to choose up a shameful variety of cookies.
Readability struck the day I made my choice to go to upstate New York for the cookies. It wasn’t about cookies or my citizenship — this was about Dad. He moved to Guelph with my household searching for higher alternatives for us. He slept on the ground of my bed room throughout thunderstorms as a result of I used to be scared and did not wish to be alone. He attended numerous dance recitals. He slogged by a troublesome job to assist my household.
I might by no means have the ability to pay again Dad for a lifetime of affection and assist, however I may actually purchase him some cookies.
In the end, my boyfriend and I drove all the way down to Ogdensburg, discovered our new cookie contact, and I mentally apologized to the whole nation of Canada as we loaded our automotive. As soon as we had been again in Ottawa, I began placing collectively Dad’s package deal of cookies to ship to Guelph.
I may have put a word within the field for him: Thanks for a lifetime of affection. Thanks for the work I did not discover. Thanks for being current.
I did not write something. My father is not a very sentimental man. He would chortle and roll his eyes if he obtained one thing like that. The cookies themselves had been the message, and I can verify that he was thrilled to obtain the cargo.
I nonetheless really feel some lingering guilt in regards to the cookie odyssey, however I’ve discovered a method to even the rating. I am certain that over a lifetime, I will buy not less than 54 packages of the Canadian model.
So if it is advisable to discover me, pay attention for the sound of crunching — and you will find me with a Woman Information cookie.
Milk baggage first entered the Canadian market within the late Sixties. However why is bagged milk the norm in Ontario, Quebec and Maritime provinces however not different elements of the nation? The reply includes the metric system and shopper habits.
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