I mentioned that we have now marked our first year here in the Annapolis Valley. We often are asked why we came here. That is a complicated question to answer and makes us look a little crazy no matter how we answer. We are a little crazy by the way. Often, it feels like our life here is temporary in the same way that each place we have lived in has been. I have a hard time settling into the reality that we are setting down roots and that I have time make my mark on this land and home. The difference is that there is nothing new on the horizon. We have no other plan, no we are doing this until… And oh how that scares me sometimes.
Can I be perfectly honest? Sometimes, I am so very, very lonely. I miss my mom. I miss my siblings. I miss my friends, especially the ones just a walk up the street. I miss familiar faces and places. I miss simple shopping. I miss familiar roads and towns. I miss cactus and flat fields even though I don’t particularly love either. I miss the music at church on Sunday. I miss what was comfortable. I miss being loved.
Most of the time, I just swallow the missing back and keep going. Because if I acknowledge the missing, it hurts that much more. And if I admit how much I miss than it might seem like I regret being here. Or that I don’t realize that the ones I belong with most are right here with me. So it’s easier to ignore it. Yet, somehow like a wound festering, the missing can only be ignored for so long. So I have been trying to acknowledge it more, facing it the same way that I faced my fear of ticks.
Last week, I went with a group of ladies to Frenchy’s (an great thrift store chain) and out for lunch. For the first time ever, I left one of my babies with a bottle in the capable hands of her daddy while I spent a day shopping with other ladies. And this felt a bit more like home.
On Sunday, we had friends and an older couple from church over for supper. And this felt a bit more like home.
Tonight, we walked over to our neighbor’s to borrow some ingredients for making cheese. Aneliese and Cecily laughed and played with their older children who set things up and dove into imaginary play with them. And as we walked home, this felt a bit more like home.
The missing is still there, but the spaces are slowly being filled. Not because I am ignoring what I am missing but because I am being shaped by it. And we are slowly making a home.
I feel for you but I am so glad that some spaces are being filled. To set down roots forever does take guts and fortitude. Lovely heartfelt post. Wishing you more wonder and community…
Thanks. It does take work to set roots, I’ve not had to do it this way before and it is a challenge. But good, I think.
I was good the first year and a half here but now I’m starting to feel lonely and isolated. The weird thing is that I had no social life or family to speak of back in Ontario so there isn’t much to miss. My bigger issue is that I’m constantly torn between needing to live in the city and needing to live in the country. A couple years in one and I’m aching to move back to the other. It’s frustrating to say the least.
I hear you. Well, the city doesn’t have a lot of pull for me but small town near a city:). Hoping that the lonely and isolated feelings ease for you soon!
Love you friend. I’m listening.. these heartfelt longings & memories are footprints in this journey.. your honesty is beautiful .
Thank you for listening and for understanding. Hope to get a visit in with you when we are in TH in a couple of weeks!
Sounds like you are doing great. Sometimes the hardest thing is to reach out. I’m learning that too on the other side of this big country. Keep reaching out. There are good people everywhere.