Aching for the Familiar

Our life has been turned so upside down this year.  I would tell you that I am not a very domestic woman, and truly I am not.  I like being at home, I love cooking from scratch, and I love being a stay at home mom.  I am not, however, good at maintaining order or organization and schedules make my heart pound and give me the same feeling I would imagine you have when you are trapped in a closet.

As of today, though, we closing out our eighth month of living in temporary housing - without our own beds, furniture, or books - and only with what personal effects fit into a suitcase and a couple of boxes - I can tell you that I have never been more ready to be in a place I can call home.

I feel temporary right now, almost like I am floating.  At first it was fun, I am a wanderlust at heart.  I love to travel and I have often said I could live in an RV.  I have found though, that I need a home base.  Somewhere to go back to.  Roots.

Our house in Naples sold yesterday.  I think that makes me sadder than I thought it would.  We closed on it in early June, with the buyer being Stan's new company.  It was hard to leave.  It was hard yesterday to hear that someone bought it from the company.  To picture a new family making memories there.  New kids sleeping in the bedrooms and new friends cooking in the kitchen.  New laughter ringing through the house.  Meanwhile, I still don't know where my bed is and I am just going to be honest, we really haven't met that many new friends out here!  No one but me is cooking in my kitchen. I am not having a pity party.  Believe me, I have had them often enough to recognize one when I get an invitation.

I am simply choosing today to embrace the moment.  To understand that sometimes it is ok just to have a good, sloppy cry.  To say to God, "I don't know if I like all this change."  It is inevitable, I know.  Life means change and it goes on.  Kids grow up and leave home.  They get married and give you grandchildren.  People move and new friends get to be made.  Much of life's changes are good.  That does not mean they are not hard.

None of the changes of our past year have been particularly horrific.  Our family is together and we are healthy.  Truly, I know that this is all that matters. I know that others are going through things that in no way compare.  I know that the lifelong friends that we made in Naples are a phone call or a Facebook chat away.  I can even see their faces on Skype or Facetime whenever I want.  I know that they are only a plane ride away and I know that I will see them again and again over the years.  In some ways, many of the friendships I had in Naples have deepened. 

Today, though, I look back at our life in Florida, a place that to be quite frank we hated the first few years we lived there, and I look at it with longing, loneliness, and nostalgia. I miss its familiarity, I miss having people to call and say "we just want to hang out, come on over," I miss running into familiar faces when I grocery shop.  I have a deep ache in the pit of my stomach and today I just want to turn back time.  I want my kids to be little again and the worst problem we have to be the mess of Legos all over the kitchen floor.  I want to trade in teenage and young adult issues for toddler tantrums and finger paint.  Ironically, I still have that, too - and I am more thankful than ever for Patrick's innocent laughter.

With the start of school and other activities going on, I know the time is coming for my kids to start to meet friends.  I know I need to make more of an effort myself.  I know my kids are scared and nervous and for the past eight months we have just clung to each other - sometimes by a thread, but always together.  We have made many memories this past year as a family and we have fought many spiritual battles.  Spiritual forces that tried to break us and turn us against each other, raging out at the God and the husband and daddy who brought us here.  Here is not a bad place.  In fact, it is an amazing and beautiful place to live.  Wild and rugged, yet at the same time sophisticated and ritzy.  It is often called "Naples of the West" because of the wealthy "snow birds" who make their winter home in our mountains and drive up the cost of living.  The views are stunning and even after almost a year, we sometimes still stop to snap pictures on the way to the grocery store.  

However, no matter how fancy here is - it is not there - and that is the rub.  Every time my children have to go into a new situation alone because they don't know anyone to invite to go with them, my heart breaks a little more.  Every time they curl into a ball and cry because they miss their friends, it cracks again.  Sometimes I just want to curl into a ball myself, but moms can't do that - at least not in front of anybody.  Today, though, I am just taking a minute to accept the fact that it is ok to miss and it is ok to remember.  God knows what we need and we feel peace about where we are.  Even when it hurts I know He brought us here and it was for a reason.

Today, though, I just miss.  I miss home.  I miss friends.  I miss things that are familiar.  There is a deep ache inside of my soul that tells me things are changing.  Once our life settles down and we have a permanent home, things will still be in forward motion.  Joshua and Bryce will likely be in and out starting in the Spring and probably starting college in the Fall.  Our move came at a time when things were shifting anyway, so in a way it was a good time to make the break.  In many ways it is exciting and then there are days like today when all I really want is a good cry.

Many of my friends are going through big changes in their families as well - you know who you are, and if you are reading, I am praying for you.