I was born in Quebec, and grew up in the Montreal area. All of my early years, through high school, and a couple of years of college were spent there before moving out west 35 years ago. I had always intended to go back to visit, but somehow just never got around to it. As is often the case, life happens.

I’ve spent my entire adult life here in BC, almost twice as many years as I spent there, and so many key moments in my life have been here. And yet there was always a little part of me that still felt like Quebec, and the Montreal area in particular, was still sort of “home”.

When planning our main trip this year, we settled on Quebec. A significant chunk was to be spent in and around Montreal, experiencing the city (once again for me, her for the first time) and visiting many of my old haunts, riding the Métro, seeing the sights, and eating familiar foods. Once we arrived, despite many changes the years seemed to fall away. My French, terribly rusty after three decades of disuse, came creaking and stumbling back into some semblance of fluency. Like riding a bike, the rhythms of the subway found their way back into my feet.

It was all wonderful, but also more emotional – and in different ways – than I had expected, seeing these places that had been such a part of my life, some barely recognizable, many others almost eerily unchanged after all this time.

Comfortingly familiar places and things, memories of old joys, of past friendships, more poignant memories of time spent with people now gone — friends, neighbours, my dad. All seen through the lens of enough time and maturity to peer beneath the rosy veneer of nostalgia.

I’m extraordinarily grateful that I finally had the chance to go back… but by the time we left, I wasn’t unhappy to go. I wouldn’t have minded a few more days to explore, but I was content.

And now after a week back I’m doubly glad we made the trip, because I feel like I can once and for all mark that part of my life as done. Never forgotten, of course, and I’ll always look back on it with fondness, but done. There’s a good chance I may never go back again, but that’s ok: I no longer feel any need to — no unfinished emotional business, as it were.

Here is where my life is now and — most importantly — this is where all the people I care most about are.

I’m home.

I love my iPhone 12 mini, it’s been one of my favourite pieces of tech I’ve ever owned. I’ve talked before about just how delightful it is. The form factor is perfect in my hand and pocket, and it’s served me extremely well for almost 3 ½ years — the longest I’ve kept an iPhone.

And in other circumstances I could have happily kept using it for at least another year, especially if I got a battery replacement.

But as I — and more specifically, my eyes — age, the size of the screen is proving more of a challenge. Pretty much our only travel for the past several years has been road trips so the battery life has not been a problem, since it’s constantly charging while in the car — but an upcoming trip will change that. Even with a fresh battery, battery management would be something I’d have to be aware of.

I’m also more acutely feeling the lack of the camera array on the Pro phones, particularly in the context of that upcoming travel and other events this year. Things like the macro mode, and night portraits, would be much appreciated for those times when I don’t have my mirrorless camera with me.

And so, when some very significant rebates came up from my carrier, I finally pulled the trigger and upgraded my phone. This is the first time I’ve upgraded off cycle, and it feels weird to buy a phone that will be moving down the lineup in only a few months, but I’ve long since come to the realization that I don’t need to stay on top of the bleeding edge — and that paying full price for newly introduced phones doesn’t make sense for me.

My 12 mini will still be sticking around — it’ll move to being a full time development/testing device (and emergency backup phone), that I can freely install iOS betas on. I may also use it for music and podcasts while working around the yard and such.

In any case, it will retain a place of honour. You’ve served me well, old friend.