Assimilation Complete

There is a certain skill set that goes along with being a military family member. As discussed, one must master the subtle art of resilience while at the same time balancing on the knife edge between stability and total blithering panic. One must learn every climate zone, and which ones will definitely kill lilacs. One must acquire a taste for the regional cuisine, be it beef or bento box. One must, of course, blend in the with the locals while attempting to add one's distinctiveness to their own. 

"You will wear a cowboy hat and we will learn how to tie a fashionable scarf."

It is also vital that you love your country. I am not talking about the sort of love that builds a bunker, stocks it with Pepsi and Twinkies, and points all the guns at the door...

"It's my God-given right to arm myself and my children, my chihuahua and the wife's parakeet."

..that's not patriotism, that's paranoia. And, let's face it, under planning. Everyone knows when the revolution comes it won't be because your god was better than their god. It will be because the last fresh water lake in North America was sold to a guy in Holland, for apparently highly valuable and yet still completely undrinkable gold and diamonds. He will sell it back to you by the drop for your last Twinkie and your daughter's untainted kidneys.

I remember having a point at one point...right. Love of country.

Loving my country isn't something I think about everyday, because I am not a crazy person. Shut up. It's just something I do naturally, when I am confronted by my fellow Canadians who haven't quite figured it out yet. It's a strange experience, having to explain what patriotism is to someone with the same blue passport. As gently as I try to describe Canada to a "countryman", it always seems to shock the person, who is busy making snide comments about the concrete in Winnipeg, the snow in Alberta, the heat in Ontario, the rain in BC, the Toronto in Toronto. Their point is usually something like "Here is infinitely better than There. Hnur hnur hnur." 

Mine is consistently "Here IS There. Love it or get out."

You have to love your country with the kind of love you hold for your partner or your family. You have to love all of it. Every dusty, windswept, drought-ridden, hail-riddled, flooded, fiery, quaking, rocky, salty corner of it. Passionately and with forgiveness for the parts you  might wish were different, yet you defend all the same because the imperfections are what make your country beautiful. 

Proud to be a Real Canadian