Saturday, September 17, 2011

coming home


it has been seven years since our return to america 
from our double decade of wanderings.

in 2004, a few months after our return, i was asked to write a piece 
for a favorite periodical of mine.  
the what katy did next issue

they asked me to share what i had learned through these nomadic years.

i have just reread this heartfelt memoir and share it now, with you....



a dutch storybook village


Coming Home

Packing up house and home to live or travel overseas has been a way of life since I married the man of my dreams over 20 years ago.  This bloke from opposite hemispheres, with a very attractive accent, sees the world as his playground.  No foreign destination for work or play is neither too exotic nor too far away.

His wanderlust is contagious and I too, all the sheltered suburbia of me, have caught it.  (I think it happened somewhere over the Atlantic on our voyage upon an African container ship.)  I know that I would never have initiated this life of travel and adventure on my own.  I am too careful, too practical, too comfortable.

What I would have missed!  Sure, there were heartfelt tears of homesickness over the years, cultural and protocol blunders made, frustration when trying to force a traditional childhood Thanksgiving or Christmas in 100-degree weather, as well as an aching for graham crackers and milk left unsatisfied for months.  But oh, the things I have seen, the people I have met and the lessons I have learned.

Whatever challenges that may have come with each resettling were only followed by immeasurable blessings.  When would I have realized that the tidy, moss-covered villages of childhood fairy tales truly exist in Holland?  How would I have known that the colors of the Kalahari would stop me in my tracks?  When would I have discovered that after an early morning beach run, an Aussie egg and bacon pie tastes like heaven?  That I have a dear friend living in London?  That I could feel exhilarated and liberated by living outside of my comfort zone?  Would I have known that seeing my favorite painting hanging in Paris would bring me to tears?  That it would ever be possible to attend a ball in Papua New Guinea or ride horseback alongside elephants in the African bush? Leaving home and the familiar opens up endless possiblities.

Now, I have discovered another blessing that follows travel and that is, coming home.  It is the yin yang of travel.  The further and more unfamiliar the destination or the longer the stay, the sweeter home becomes.  After being away on summer vacation as a little girl, I remember feeling that Dad couldn't drive home quickly enough.  Home suddenly became as attractive as the vacation destination had been!

It is the yearning for the familiar, for the predictable, for comfort, for security, for "home".  After being on the run for nearly two decades, with eight or nine (who's counting anyway) international relocations behind us, we have decided that it is finally time to make America "home".  Along with our five open-minded and adaptable children that have joined us along the way, we are feeling the need to put down roots - to create our family home.

Never has the thought seemed so sweet.  I can't think of anywhere else I would rather be.  
I have loved this exciting life and I will treasure the experiences that have become a part of me.  
In fact, have shaped me.  

I have been far and wide and now that I am coming home, I am realizing that the blessings of both ways of life are very similar.  For now, I am finding that the thought of having my family and the familiar around me again also seems to open up endless possibilities as long as I keep an open mind and a vibrant sense of adventure.  Isn't life wonderful......

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