Home

The word and its meaning have changed for me recently. Broken away from deep roots and traveled south.

It used to mean the ocean and a magical house on the coast. Part of me will always consider that home. The sun porch, homemade "mommy tea" and restorative nights by a cozy fire. Solid, safe and comforting.

When we traveled back to Oregon recently my heart ached for my old home. I wanted to sprout roots and grow back into Portland. Embrace its lush summer majesty and never let go. Visit our old house and relive unforgettable moments on the porch. Open my arms to the Pacific and beg its forgiveness for having ever left it at all.

"The first trip back is always the hardest." Our friend Dave from England wisely told us at a friends wedding.

How right he was. Although I have lived in three other states besides Oregon before moving south, it never had the feeling of longevity as this recent move has had. We are here for at least 3 years. We are going back to college. We are buying a house. This. Is. Home.

Grasping that idea while in the familiar woodsy paradise of the Oregon Country Fair was almost surreal.
"We live in North Carolina" I kept saying aloud to Dustin.

The words made my tongue feel thick like speaking a foreign language. How far away our life here seemed. How utterly inconvenient.

"I just want to be next to Mindy and Juanita and all the babies!" I whined. "I want to drink Dechutes beer and hang out with Megan and Michelle and Loren and Finn and Delaney and Megan and Troy and........!"

Dustin patiently listened to my ramblings, not afflicted with the same aching homesickness as I. His adventurous spirit burned steadfast inside him, twinkling tenaciously in his eyes.

"I know you do baby" was all he said.

And so it went for days and days. Every thing in Oregon seemed to sparkle like a treasure. I wanted everything I had left behind. To hell with new beginnings.

And then our time came to an end. The Fair was over and we said our goodbyes. I looked longingly down upon Portland from my airplane window seat and sighed. I didn't feel like we were coming home, I felt as if we were leaving it.

Curiously, when we walked through the doors of our house in the wee hours of the morning, I felt a sense of unexpected relief. Our garden was there waiting for us and the tomatoes were turning bright red and juicy. Our big, cozy bed was neatly made and beyond inviting. I had forgotten how much I loved my big, wooden dresser and our adorable living room with our vintage couches. It is ours and only ours. We live here. We are grown ups. This is Home.

Those words are becoming more comforting to me now, as I have picked them up and brought them south. Oregon will always live inside me, but now I live inside North Carolina. Homesickness gives way to a sense of home. It feels good.
I am ready to
Be. Here. Now.