- Hey Brigitte, some institutions on the Magdalen Islands have reached out to us, they would need a speech therapist every now and then... Is that something you could be interested in?
My boss at the Quebec City CHU probably saw my jaw drop when I heard her offer. But if she could have seen what was going through my mind at this exact moment, she would have seen the memories unfolding - the radiant De La Martinique Beach, my heart beating in sync with the waves, the ebb and flow bringing sand dollars to my feet, those precious treasures that my 8-year old self brought back from our summer vacation...
- Until they can find someone who would take the position permanently, they'd need the service to be available for a week every three months. Their office is in Fatima.
Fatima... Another wave of memories flowed in, bringing me back to when I was 23, when I flew to the Islands with my backpack, when I decided to discover the place hitchhiking, going where the wind and the encounters would take me. On the second day of my trip, providence put me in the car of an Egyptian man who had been living on the Islands for many years. After a few minutes of captivating conversation, he had offered:
- I have a small cottage where you could stay, in Fatima...
Had I heard him right? Surely I had, because in the blink of an eye, we were by the cliffs, near the Belle-Anse. I pinched myself as we walked down the path leading to the small cabin, in awe of the sunset lighting up the sky above us in orangey hues. I had the great privilege of staying in this enchanting cottage for the remainder of my stay. I remember the delicate afternoons on the golden sandy beaches, the refreshing swims at the foot of the cliffs, the soft green of the hills. My neighbours, the Chevarie, even turned the Christmas in July celebrations into an impromptu birthday party when they heard that I was born on the 25th of December. They picked wild blueberries by hand and baked an upside-down cake that we devoured at dawn after a night spent singing around a bonfire. Naturally, on the following day, I had no choice but to inform my then-employer of "circumstances beyond my control" that would force me to extend my vacation for another three days.
- Well yes, that's something I could be interested in... I finally answered to my boss, with taste buds overwhelmed by the memory of wild blueberries and a smile that spoke volumes.
And that's how I lived on and fell in love with the Magdalen Islands, for a week every three months. After a year, already well under the charm of the place, I was the one to accept the permanent position, telling myself that I'd try it for a year... Twenty years later, the adventure continues. I've swapped the cottage for a house by the sea, met an Islander with ocean eyes, and now have two wonderful daughters. And the love story keeps on going, as beautiful and enchanting as ever, between the Magdalen Islands and me.
