After 48 hours, a few miles driving, many coffees and footsteps later, I have traveled to Vancouver and returned home. I love getting away for a weekend, even if it's a simple catch up with your girls and seeing something new.
It's a week and a bit post-riot and the end of the Stanley Cup final, and I was apprehensive about heading down to Granville Street where the major damage was done. I saw Ground Zero in New York a few years after the attack and remember this hush around the site - even though there was nothing going on, something bad had happened there. Standing in front of The Bay, where I was only a few months before with my girlfriends inside the MAC store, were plywood boards.
It took everything for me to not start to cry.
Everyone around me stood about five feet away, staring in awe. The messages are beautiful, the street is immaculate and life has gone on. There was even a festival down the street blasting music.
I couldn't just stand there. Being the ever-prepared journalist (I learned my lesson in first year) I had a pen handy. It felt like I was breaking away from the pack, but I had to do something. Maybe it was lame and this will just end up in a pile somewhere, but I had to sign the board. I had to let this city, this province, the country which accepted me only five short years ago know that I loved it so much.
However how sad I may have felt for those few moments, there's something really beautiful about seeing this city come together after these riots. The sun is still out, there's food to eat, a roof over our heads and life goes one.
I still believe.
