Déja Vu

My work as a photographer takes me many places in our area as well as often driving in rural areas as a bypass on my way to the city. The country roads are great for one’s mental health. I would much rather take an extra half hour to get somewhere by taking the back roads and receiving the benefit of seeing cows in pasture, horses out grazing and farmers working the land. The concrete jungle can be a bit overstimulating and the wide expanse of rural areas is, to me, eye candy.

Ever since the day I had come upon that wee little kitty in the heat, on that horribly hot and humid August day in 2018, I had wondered where the farm she came from was located. I had thought maybe I’d stop by again one day, making it a good day and full circle to the story that started out so sadly. You might ask yourself, how could you forget? Don’t you know where you were that day?

Well, you see, driving the backroads, often means just that, driving. I pay no attention to the name of the sideroad or even what little “blink and it’s gone” town I drive through. I’m more apt to just take in the beauty of the landscape.

Although I did have the receipt from my corn purchase and had looked online for the name of the farm, I was not successful. How could a business not be listed on the internet? Isn’t that where you find everyone and everything?

I had kept that receipt in my wallet for three years. It was the only memento I had of Maisie’s birthplace.

So, last week I was driving to a client’s home with Maisie as my co-pilot. After checking Google Maps, I found I could bypass the highways during my rush hour drive. This was my bonus! A fun country drive would certainly do me some good. On that particular morning, in an area I had driven many times before, a barricade was set up to close off my chosen route. Thankful that I had entered my destination into the GPS, I continued on the detour route.
It was gladioli season and many Mennonite farms had gorgeous stalks of vibrant flowers for sale in buckets at the ends of their farm laneways. I thought about stopping to purchase a few stalks to gift my client. I mean, who doesn’t love flowers?! I passed a farm market sign and although it didn’t advertise flowers for sale, I thought I’d take the chance as I was on the outskirts of the city and this might be my last opportunity.

As I made my way down the long farm laneway, lined with fields of tall stalks of corn, my brain did a little “blip”. I didn’t really understand the why of that blip until I parked the jeep. It happened to be the exact same parking formation I had chosen three years earlier at a farm market similar to this one. Could this really be happening?
Was my hopeful mind just playing tricks on me? Somehow my memory and the vision in front of me didn’t quite match up. Things were different. New buildings were on the property.
I looked at the name on the market building. All it said was FARM MARKET. I got out and let Maisie walk where she wanted and sniff what she chose to investigate. All the while my brain was going a mile-a-minute.
We walked to the front of the market where three years ago, at the market I found Maisie, were rows of potted ferns and some trees. On this day’s visit the space seemed so bright while my memory remembers a dark area where I had hardly seen the little kitten until it came out into the open from between the pots. I questioned my memory of that day in 2018 that was undoubtedly a sad emotional one. So much happened in such a short time (namely the decision to take a sickly farm kitten with me to the city)

While it seemed familiar, I just wasn’t sure. I could be at any country farm market. All the laneways looked the same. Fields of corn looked the same. Farm markets were standard and very similar.
I decided to go inside. An older Mennonite woman appeared from the back. It was at that very moment I had déja vu. I was swooped back in time to when I entered that very same farm market store to inform them of the sick kitten out front. The woman glared at me for bringing a cat inside but I dismissed her reaction and handed her the flowers I wanted to purchase. And something I was so proud to have thought of so quickly, was asking for a receipt. I had barely spent $2.00 but I needed that little piece of paper. I also found a colour brochure, laying on a little table by the door and grabbed that on my hasty way out.

As soon as I got in my vehicle I looked at the receipt and saw it was the EXACT same farm. This was my proof that my suspicions and mind blip had infomed me that I, indeed, did finally locate Maisie’s birthplace. I can’t explain the elation I had or why it mattered so much to me. I can’t explain why I felt so emotional other than how dire the found day had been to the current day where I had my best friend and Emotional Support Companion helping me manage my mental illness. Both of our lives that initial day were upside down and to see the two of us now is like night and day, obviously for the better.