It’s been almost two years to the day since I’ve been back home. The last time I was here, the pandemic was front and center. After wrapping up the crazy school-year and “two weeks to flatten the curve” I needed a change of scenery. On a whim (as I am known to do) I told my husband what I was thinking, packed up my kids, and on a Thursday afternoon I began my trip east from Colorado to Michigan. Before then I had never made the trip on my own, and the kids and I navigated two days of many hours in the car but eventually we arrived. I showed up at my parent’s house without warning (something else I am known to do) and we made ourselves at home for almost two weeks. It was the break we needed when so much felt like it was out of control.
Fast forward to this year- we are back in the state of Michigan hanging out at my parent’s house once more. My husband drove most of the way, the trip was easy and uneventful, and we are here for the next 10 days. Life lately has felt out of control in different ways, and I have been looking forward to the quiet of stepping away from our day-to-day life.
But let me be clear, quiet is a relative term.
My husband begins his sabbatical at the end of the week (a perk of working for his current employer), and both of my brothers and their families arrive in the next couple days. While I see one of them a couple times a year, it’s been two years since I’ve seen the other. It is going to be complete chaos with all of us in the house, and four boys between the ages and 3 and 8 running wild. At the same time my 11 year old daughter will search for quiet and connection time with her aunts and grandma. Balance, or something like that.
I am an introvert by nature, but I welcome the crazy because I am so grateful that I have this opportunity. Not everyone has a family they want to spend time with, and some that do don’t have the ability.
I am as I have felt for the last two years in a sort of transition. I’ve felt like a hamster stuck in a wheel because so many things felt out of control or out of reach. I no longer feel like the rodent but instead like someone who sees the path in front of her and knows without a doubt it’s mine to follow however I choose. It’s time, it’s been time, but I’ve lacked the skill or foresight or even determination to do anything with it besides stay in the same place.
I’m going to soak up my time here at home, let it be the healing space that home should be. I’m going to do some of the things that are always part of my routine- train, spend time outside, read and write. I’m also going to enjoy the time with people I love, visit the places and people I can only experience when I’m home, and embrace the lack of structure to my days knowing there is plenty of that waiting for me in my Colorado home when I return.
I haven’t lived in this house since I was 18. I haven’t lived in Michigan since I was 22, and I haven’t lived in the Midwest for almost a decade. Living in Colorado was my dream ever since I first went to visit, and living there has been nothing short of everything I could possibly want. That being said there is something about Michigan that has never left me. I can’t say I’d rush to return with any sort of permeance, but I love knowing there is a sense of rootedness and grounding waiting for me should I choose to pursue it.
Summer, especially the 4th of July is the best time to be here, and I am so thankful to be home again with all the people that make Home what it is.