I've been in Indiana now since I was 17, so I've spent an equal number of years Here vs. There. If life were as exact and compartmentalized and scientific as I am apt to wish, everything would be even now, and I would feel precisely the same way about both.
But roots are different from branches, aren't they?
My roots reach all the way back down, winding across long stretches of road I could drive with my eyes closed.
I go back to my roots and I just know things. I'm not the out-of-towner, there. People ask me about my Dad. The neighbor guy delivers dinner to the door. I spy an old classmate walking right past the bicycle shop that has always been there, in all of its mysterious, dusty, bike-ishness.
I return Here to my family and my home and the guy who loves me best. I'm a proud Indiana girl. I'm happy to raise little Hoosiers. The branches here are full, and they're lovely. With every year, they reach out a little farther.
There's no big point here, no tidy ends to twist into a smart bow, surprising even myself with the way it all came together.
Or, maybe that is the point - that this just never does come together.
Maybe I'll live my life caught square between the door-frames of two different Homes, and that's not at all a bad thing. Maybe I'll be the only person who really distinguishes one flat, beautiful land from the other. Maybe the There will always contrast the Here in a way that makes them both a little more captivating and bright.
I loved my time with my Sister. I loved seeing old friends under the rafters of old, old Truths.
I'm not gonna lie - I loved the food.
Last night, I found myself in that too-familiar condition of grasping for sleep. My body wanted it so badly but my mind is tougher. It has always been this way.
So, I faced one wall and remembered all over again that there's a reason I'm Here instead of There. It goes far beyond this life that I hold by the hand.
I flipped around to face the other wall and did my best to look into the eyes of some exciting things trudging across the soggy, Indiana soil. They're headed my way. Our way. With everything around me dark and sleeping, I heard them coming nearer. In the wide open space of quiet, I listened to the Truth that gives everything I have its breath and its motion, its soul: This life is not my own.
I am thankful I have never had to move too far from home. Home is very good. Very, very good. : )
ReplyDeleteYou write eloquently.
I so know what you are talking about. You were right, Ohio air is different. This will never be home like that was but it's not supposed to be, nor do I want it to be if I'm honest with myself. But it's nice to know I'm not the only Buckeye in Hoosier-land feeling this way--caught btwn two "Homes".
ReplyDeleteI can totally relate to this. Montana and California are both home to me.
ReplyDeleteIt was fun to see you yesterday for a second. We love it when you come home! :)
ReplyDeletei know something about what it feels like to have one foot in the door and one foot out. this is a good post shan!
ReplyDeleteI find myself homesick when my feet almost touch the ground on a porch swing, when I smell dumplings baking in the oven, when a cool breeze flows through the screen of a porch. It hides in the sheets of Riley's bunk bed when I slip in between the covers beside him at night to discuss important matters of the world. I spy it when Jordan rounds the corner and I think for a second he's my brother- again. It sneaks up on me when I pass a historical marker on the side of the road and I remember that my Daddy always pulled over for every single one when we were kids. For me, this home has long left the actual structure that once held my childhood frame. It scattered like grain far beyond my eyes can see and I find it everywhere. I never really left home, really.
ReplyDeleteHome is where my people are. I'm home in Illinois and I'm home up here in MN. BUT if we moved that new place would be home. My peeps are home.
ReplyDeleteAnother lovely post full of truths.
ReplyDeletei love how you said roots are different than branches. love that! glad you had a wonderful time and glad the food was great! ;)
ReplyDeleteAnd this is why I love to come Here everyday and read the words you string together into meaningful sentences that touch my soul. You are so lucky to be able to go back home and have that feeling.
ReplyDeleteGrasp the two homes with all your heart...you are very lucky to have them :)
ReplyDelete~~HUGS~~
I can completely relate to this. I'm back in Minnesota (where I was born and raised) after years away. I lived in Tennessee and Arizona. I feel like I've left a part of myself in each place.
ReplyDeleteSedona still seems like home to me and I miss it when I see photos. Same thing with Tennessee. If I see Nashville on a travel channel, my heart aches. When I lived in AZ and would drive home, I'd start to cry when I reached Nebraska because the air changed and was humid and it smelled like home.
I've always felt that I'm from a few different places and I'm never sure exactly where I'm supposed to be. I feel like I have "family" in each one and I'm grateful for that. :-)
LOVE it! And totally relate. Roots are definitely different than branches.
ReplyDeleteYour writing always amazes me.
We are exact opposites. I am an Indiana girl transplanted in Ohio. I totally get what you mean. I love to go home. To the small community. To the teeny ice cream shop. To the smell of pig poo. The weirdest thing to me living here is never ever ever seeing anyone I know when I am out and about. Ever. At home, I can't go 3 blocks without seeing someone I know. I really miss that.
ReplyDeleteI loved seeing old friends under the rafters of old, old Truths.
ReplyDelete;-)
I live on the croft on which my husband grew up - less than a mile from where I grew up. It's so....comfortable and....safe. Everyone knows everyone. When I nip up to our local shop, I know the ones behind the counter, and I know all the others wandering around the shop and so any trip becomes a social outing (albeit short - that's the way I must have it, cos I don't have the time to stop and chat!). I know that the culture we have on this island here on the edge of Scotland is seldom found in our generation, but I love it.
ReplyDeleteLoved the sweet writing of this post! And for me, I always love the food best when I don't have to prepare it.
ReplyDeleteOh! The two places at once love is so crazy. I want to go "home" now and eat mexican food at the place that remembers me from high school...nostalgia baby! that's what you're selling today :)
ReplyDeleteYou still haven't sold me on the midwest completely. I'll take your summers but your winters? That takes a special breed.
I am fortunate enough to have my roots only 25 minutes away from the branches. It's interesting to think how our kids are making those same roots where their mama's branches are now living:)
ReplyDeleteYou know, the only way at all I can relate to this at all is missing the "old days". I am still here at home with my lovely family all around, but I find myself feeling a bit homesick when I step foot on brick paved streets, go for really early morning walks, work in the garden, see my grandma cooking, hear my favorite songs you are my sunshine, and bushel and a peck. I haven't left, but those feelings of home when I was a little girl are something I want to hold on to when they come around. But I also know that new memories of creating home now are something to hold on to. Love this post and your words.
ReplyDeleteI so understand this. And I love what you said. "Roots are different from branches, aren't they?"
ReplyDeleteThey are. And they both serve their beautiful purpose. :)
for me, my home is where we make it...i need my babies and my man. that's home. i have a hard time once in a while that my roots are only 60 miles from my branches and i long for an adventure :) someday....maybe :)
ReplyDeleteThis was beautiful.
ReplyDeleteDearest Farm Girl, your words sometimes pierce my insides. I stayed where my roots were established, but be sure my actions have at times made me venture away. In your words, "I listened to the truth." In mine, the truth is what swept me up many years ago, and brought me back to the soil that gives me life. I know that feeling you speak about, to turn my body from side to side and see the corners I have walked, and the promises of what is to come. I love you for helping me to think deep about my experiences. That is the sign of a great writer, for this I am sure.
ReplyDelete~G~hugs
you have such a gift, your writing captivates my attention. thanks for sharing your thoughts-now you have ME thinking;)
ReplyDeleteI was uprooted alot, but that first soil I put my feet into holds a tug on my heart that is almost primal. I haven't lived in the Northwest since I was five but it is my heartland. On the the other hand I've lived in SoCal since I was 10 and its pull on my heart is also strong, just different. I can't wait to see what He has ahead for you.
ReplyDeleteI was thinking of you with your visit home, and I was reminded of a piece of advice given to me right before I was to be married. (This was from the pastor at my church.) Her advice was, every once in a while, go home. By yourself. Because as much as your parents and siblings will love your husband and your children, it's also special to them if they get to have you visit by yourself. Sounds like you got a little of that in on this trip.
ReplyDeleteVery excited for the things on your horizon. :)
Nice post! You're posts actually take me to my "home"! Love hearing little things in your posts to remind me of home! Hoping to make it up that way over spring break. The Olympia, The Chief and many other things. Now, if only we can make it this summer to visit the country road side veggie stands!!!! :)
ReplyDeleteI agree with the above posters.... home is where my people are. We moved around a bit within my home town, so I don't have a specific house that feels like home. I do like going back to my home town and the feeling that everyone knows my name.... that is one of the reasons why I left. And I like feeling a bit more mysterious where I live now... does that make sense? I am glad you had a good visit :)
ReplyDelete'this life is not my own.' amen.
ReplyDeletei can't wait for home.
well said,well written,c'mon over to my blog I have a giveaway I think you will like!!!!
ReplyDeleteNatalie
We moved a lot
ReplyDeletewhen I was growing
up and HOME meant
where we were...
and we blossomed
in each place. But
my heart was at home
in one place more than
the rest and I hope to
live there, some day,
again. Welcome home.
xx Suzanne
I remember going back to my childhood home and the birds all sounded familiar as well as the smell in the air...now we have come full circle and live not far from where I grew up. Who knew? but God did.
ReplyDelete: )
ReplyDeletelovely post...seems no matter where I go the "country girl" is just part of me. Hubby says when I visit my little "holler," I come home with the twang worse than ever. I like the roots/branches analysis :)
ReplyDeleteLove the roots and branches analogy. So true and so beautifully described!
ReplyDeleteThis is so true. Doesn't it seem that we are always in one place slightly longing for the other- it must be that homesickness for Heaven.
ReplyDeleteI hope to give my kids the chance to come back home. A place that is familiar, loving and predictable. I don't have that because mu Mom moved us so much but i dream of it for my kids.
ReplyDeleteGlad you had a great time in our great state, fellow Hoosier!!
ReplyDeletei've only in brief periods had to experience a home away from the place i call home so it's not something i think about much. i'm where my roots are right now. i can't imagine living anywhere else, but i know i would and i would call it home if my family was with me.
ReplyDeleteThis post had me in tears. I am constantly pulled wanting to be back to the place I will always call home, and yet knowing that it is not for now. I struggle with the why, why am I HERE and not THERE... After all, THERE is where we want to raise our family, but the timing just hasn't worked out yet. HERE is full of stress, struggles, the unknown, and family that loves us, but just aren't the same as mine. THERE is 100 lbs lighter, the air is fresher, the town is quaint and full of people who have known me since day one. THERE has two people who love me beyond words, and mountains that make my heart soar. But HERE is where we are for now, and I am struggling to make the best, the most out of our situation. Wishing for answers and change...
ReplyDeleteAll this talk about home...I'm sorry, but it has my heart heavy and hurting. Go home girls, and love your moms, and hug your dads. Savor the sight and scent of home, and eat those homemade mom-made meals, and sleep in those precious childhood beds, and laugh and cry and talk all night, and thank the Lord that you can.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this. I'm in a place where allowing any roots to form, here, in foreign territory feels sickening and all wrong. I went "home" briefly a few weeks ago, back where we came from, and am finding it easier, day by day, to let myself be home here too, now. I needed the reminder, today, that "roots are from different branches", and that I can maintain the roots that sprouted up before and also loosen the soil for those still wrapping down into unfamiliar ground. <3
ReplyDeletethis speaks to me. I too have these roots. Mine in the Minnesota mines, locked beneath the pines. what a joy it is to go back there and take deep breaths that sustain. so glad emily linked to you...from your newest fan :)
ReplyDeleteYes, our roots are different from our branches but sometimes it's tough to remember that. I recently heard a quote, "We live forward but understand backward." That is why I think roots are so much more comfortable. They are what is best understood. Thank you for sharing this beautiful message and Happy New Year!
ReplyDelete