When one relocates there is a process. First there is the pressure that the move fills us with, followed by a sense of urgency to get the new house set up and the family organised. Lastly comes the feeling of yearning. The desire to feel like you actually belong in the place you are trying to call home. The whole progression is tiresome, emotional and at times heartbreaking. Since our move from the city to the country, I can confidently say I have experienced them all.
I stand on the porch outside, cradling a steaming hot mug of coffee and watching the clouds tumble over the morning sky. It was beyond early. The sun was no where to be seen, the day was dull, grey and a reflection of how I was feeling. I had never been a morning person, always slow to rise and grumpy in the process and today was no different. My head was filled with so many thoughts that I was grateful for the time alone; the time before the morning chaos began and the time in which to arrange the tangled web in my mind and place my thoughts into the boxes of clarity in which they belonged.
Cars and trucks drove past my home, many being farmers off to tend to their livestock or produce. All would look in my direction and with little effort; lift their hand in a half hearted attempt to signal a wave. “If only they knew”, I thought with each passing vehicle. It was such a kind gesture however its affect on me bought so much negativity and assumptions. I couldnt help but speculate what they were really thinking. You see, many towns people have asked me since moving here if we are “settled”. Instinctively I reply with the answer, the easy answer, the answer that applies to the rest of my family. “Yes, all settled now thanks!”. However, in my mind I am overwhelmed with emotion and feel like screaming “NO IM NOT”, but I somehow muster up restraint. I am at a point where I have constantly wonder if this town will ever feel like home and if I will ever be “settled” as expected of me. In saying all this, I am not regretful of the decision that was made to move here especially when I look at my family. The children love their new environment and all that country life has to offer. The wildlife amazes them, and the local children of the town have been more than welcoming. The difference in the attitudes of my children has on occasion, bought me to tears. The smile that is now permanently affixed to their faces makes it easy to see that they are genuinely happy to be here.
Craig had also found his niche in country living. He is off keeping the streets safe through work and creating tight social circles in the process. The pressure that was once a packaged burden strapped to his back is now a forgotten memory. There is no juggling, no stress and nothing of major concern to him. Life was good in his world. This town has become a place he is happy to call home.
So while I sip my coffee and the sun parts the clouds to pave its way into the sky, I am left thinking, what makes a location feel like home?
Is it the idol chit chat of the parents that stand at the front of the school every afternoon? Is it the pleasantries from the local shop keeper when topping up the petrol in my car? Is it the wave of the passer-by I witnessed this morning?
All that is important and assists in making life comfortable, however I have come to learn that it is not what makes home. Home is not a town or a dwelling, nor is it a smile from a stranger; home is where you lay your heart.
So the next time a person asks me if we are settled. I will be able to answer honestly “Yes WE are!”…
So the next time a person asks me if we are settled. I will be able to answer honestly “Yes WE are!”…
With my beautiful family by my side, I will always be home!
