I have done a lot of driving this summer. Lovely drives down country lanes bordered by vegetation so lush that my car moves through tunnels of green.
Down the country lane that leads to the county fairgrounds, I admire the barn that has been rooted on its Maryland hill for at least a century. Nature and the elements have gently altered it. Trees have grown to tower over it. Its boards have weathered to silver in places. The farmer has tweaked it: a cinder block office has been tacked onto the side; a new tractor parked alongside; a tin awning added to shade stalls. Surface changes only: the barn's frame--its essence--remains intact and functional. More than that, though, the evidence of the slow accumulation of refinements means that the barn belongs.
I have to admit that as I pass the barn I feel envy mixed in with the admiration. Not envy in the sense of wanting to possess what the farmer has. But envy for the barn's quiet, sure knowledge of belonging.
It has been a little over a month since we moved to Maryland, and I am still feeling an acute sense of dislocation, a sense of not being home. This is my 12th move in my 43 years, the 8th move as an adult. I know the drill--how to pack and unpack and dispose of boxes, update addresses, register kids in school, make friends, scout out grocery stores and restaurants and doctors and hair stylists. Those are the surface changes that are meant to take hold and root me in a new place. But the roots are slow in taking hold since I know that this is only a temporary move, a one-year caesura in our life back in New York.
So I'm betwixt and between, and feeling uneasy about it. But I'm also trying to hold on to the idea that this in-between-ness could hold some rewards as well: a heightened appreciation for all of the amazing things in my old home and in my new one. And, most importantly, that what I have right here with me--my family most of all--is all that I need to feel at home.
6 comments:
ah my friend, I know that feeling. In my adult life, I've moved 7 times (and in 10 years !). So each time they were very temporary stays. Don't worry, you don't need much to call a house a home. As long as you have the love of your family, as long as everyone is healthy & happy, nothing matters. You'll find new marks in your place, I'm sure. Changes can be very refreshing. I almost feel sorry for people who have never moved. Moving, changing, is refreshing, and thought provoking.
You are a very smart woman, Pat, and I'm sure you'll deal with all your feelings very well, and very soon.
sending you all my love. Welcome back to the blogging world. I missed you, girl !!
oxoxoxo
I am so happy to read your new post tonight Pat.
I miss your prose so very much. Spending time with you at your last home seems like just yesterday in some ways and yet in others it seems like ages ago.
I would love to wander with you in your temporary environs. I bet we could find the most interesting things and many fences to hop over.
In fact I was hopping fences today to take a short cut to the forest.
Home is where you family and loved ones reside. I have always believed that.
It really is so lovely to read your words. You have such a way. I've missed it.
I hope this experience is a good one for you and your family.
I've moved 12 times in my memory time (many more moves as a child, but I don't remember those). After all of these moves, I think of moving like I do pruning a plant in my garden. When you prune a plant, you do lose something, and I'm sure if we had a tiny microphone, we could probably hear the plant crying out in pain over what it had lost. But careful pruning can do marvelous things for a plant. Careful pruning of a tomato plant makes it strong and full, rather than weak and spindly. Careful pruning of an apple tree can increase its fruit production. For people, moving forces you to confront your whole way of life and decide which parts you keep and which parts you change, even as you sort your possessions into the "keep" and "donate" boxes.
Moving is hard, very hard. But it leads to growth, if you welcome it.
I'm glad you're writing your blog again. You have a very thoughtful way of writing.
Ahhh Pat, so wonderful to read you here again. I too am a multiple mover. I love it and hate it.
I fully understand how a temporary move is less settling, but you already are finding the positive in exploring and enjoying new surroundings. I hope you and your family come away from this latest adventure with a whole load of happy memories.
Lovely to have you back.
Jx
would it ease anything to know that in some regards i envy you, feeling so rooted and rutted in this place i've been for the last 19 years. recognizing your unease, and acknowledging it will be helpful as you navigate your emotions.
sometimes when we are uprooted in one way or another it can be an opportunity of sorts for growth, pruning, prioritizing, etc. okay, you can just tell me to shut up already - it's just that i want you to be good - good in the sense of peaceful in your soul. hang in there, buckle up, and enjoy as many parts of the ride as you are capable of enjoying!
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