A few years back, I was chatting with a stranger on a cruise about how I grew up in Michigan, not far from Canada. I explained how my mom used to hop the bridge to visit occasionally and really loved it. The stranger turned his nose up at the thought of Windsor, Ontario being a great place to visit. He was from another more popular part of Canada and insisted there wasn't much going on in that part across the Detroit river.
Until that moment, I had high hopes for the moment I finally got the chance to visit for myself, but I let the dream fizzle after that conversation. The last few times I've gone home to see my family, the idea kept popping up in my brain - like a postcard from the dentist. I'd think yeah, I should probably go, but not right now.
Well, let me tell you, I finally got back to the dentist after way too long away, and I finally made plans to cross the bridge to the Great White North.
And I loved every minute of it.
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