Home again, home again Jiggity Jig!

Our journey is winding down, and it is quite remarkable, because it feels as if we have just landed.  We had little to almost no time to catch our breath, and live in the small moments.  It has been such a whirl-win that we have not, unfortunately been able to, ‘enjoy the small things’.

Nicci, had said it best, she said, “I don’t think it will ever feel like home.”  After I had confided in her that I am still yearning to feel settled.

As I reflect now, Ryan and I have never really felt, or been for that matter, settled.  I am not complaining, not one bit.  Even during ‘uni’ we moved every single August.  We work best that way. We have learned how to pack up our lives in less than an hour, using only 1 suitcase each.

The thing is we have settled things; we have stuff that belongs in a home, a settled home.  We just don’t know how to settle down.  We have art even, art that is supposed to hang over our mantle.  The art has sat in Diddo’s and Nancy’s attic for about 5 years now.  We have towels, linens, appliances, countless knife sets, but nowhere to share them.

I cannot wait to have our first settled place, believe me I am hosting Christmas when this happens, but  it just may not be tomorrow, or even next year.  Patience is something that Ryan has taught me.  Although not all of you may agree that I have this virtue, not even Ryan, but I know I have learned this trait from him, because although he has these Christmas hosting dreams as well, there are other dreams, bigger dreams that we both, together want to accomplish first.  Unfortunately, these dreams and accomplishments take time, and PATIENCE thus is why settling is far from a grasp, it is more like a glimpse in the future, a sliver of hope that one day might be near.

Until then there may be other journeys for us to take.  New countries may be on our radar, or maybe just new provinces, nevertheless we have learned a fabulous lesson.  This lesson is, ‘we are not defined by where we live’.  Nicci, again, has helped me with this one.  Where you live should not define you.  I continue to understand this more and more each and every day.

Naturally, when I share my woes with family and friends their first reactions are to, ‘come home’.  What is difficult about this statement is, ‘where’s home?’  To them, it is Windsor, a place I have lived in for 9 months during the past 6 years.  Yes of course my love is there, Ryan’s too.  We love Windsor; we love it for the fact that we both feel comfy there.  Ryan loves visiting his old roots, and together every time we roll into Windsor, Walker road seems a bit more chaotic, more modern, more sub-divisions, more restaurants, banks, box stores.  Something else trickles down our spines, unfamiliarity.  Although family and friends are the first things we think of when we ride by Montanas and Staples it can also be the same thing we think of once we hit the 115 and the tapley quarter line. 

Meaning for us home is in many places.  We are blessed to have so many places to call home.

Mary Ann said something tonight that triggered this rant.  We were telling her about our trips ‘home’ and she asked me, ‘are you flying into Toronto, or Windsor?’  There it is... where is home?  Or which home are you flying to?

Well one day Ryan and I will have our ‘own home’, a place that we will always be ‘flying into’, but until then we have our gracious families and friends who welcome us into ‘their homes’, and make us feel, ‘at home’.

Now that I have gotten out all the philosophical stuff, here is a video to lighten the mood.

Anne made a fantastic apple cake.  Here I didn't realize our camera was on record until Ryan gives a funky half smile! haha... Then I wanted to pay respects to the baker, and she shunned me!