“No matter how dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful. There is no place like home.”
? L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
I just returned home, from a 16 day holiday with my 89 year old Mama. She and I hadn’t been to our old family homestead in almost two years and were expecting nothing less than bright-eyed smiles to see it again: She and I both looking forward to seeing her other two children (yes, my siblings) her grand children and her great-grand children.
It never ceases to amaze me, the expectations of what such a journey should bring; and yet when you pack your bulging bags to come home, the results are not even close to your expectations. Sometimes they exceed them; others they fall short. We expected two weeks of great fun, laughter, touchstones to walk upon: refreshing our youthful memories. We expected a feeling of family; everyone gathered; and everyone welcome. And yes, we got a lot of that… But we found ourselves adrift with petty family differences between some which kept us ALL from being together happily; being together as we once were: in the arms of all that was intended; threads preciously loomed with lore and the excitement of our unknown futures; and the wonder of new dreams to look forward to.
It all brings to mind the old-aged-words, “you can never go back” and “there is no place like home” and not to over kill, but “home is where the heart is.” There is also something to the ideology, what you expect will never be, but who you are will bring you everything you need to understand and embrace.
I remember once upon a time, experiences where I thought I would come to live the happiest days in my life and surprisingly, left feeling like it couldn’t get any worse. When in truth, it could…and did. I’ve had people drop over in front of me due to being exhausted and then hospitalized on “vacations”; I have had them throw-up on me only to ask, aren’t we having a great time? I have had the distinct pleasure to total my car; kidney stone attacks and then there was the time I almost died and actually went out of body – yes it’s true, I almost drowned on a latte coming down the mountain from Crater Lake Oregon. I’ve had scary moments at international borders. I almost froze to death in Alaska once, and all I had to do was look up to see a wire which would help lift me from the frozen slope and pull me back to safety. But did I look up? Um, no. Then there was the time I was flying to Dusseldorf Germany and woke to a Saudi Arabian man sucking on my fingers between my index finger and my small finger… did I order that up as a special excursion within my flight package? Um, again, no, I did not.
And there you have it, a journey turning into something different than expected—but proving what I already knew. Yes, I will say it again; nothing ever turns out as we expect it to. Never. Yes, I grew up a little due to those uncanny and now, comical events. I’ve had many a laugh retelling the stories, but lessons were not lost on me: I learned immediately home is not to be found out in the world, home is home. The world is my neighbor, my playground, my dreams of what might be waiting; my past, but not the safety and assurance which lies between my own corners of my own walls. And Mama and I were reminded, home IS where the heart is—and THAT is when we find ourselves with Gary, LucyBelle, she and I, right here in little-old Bellevue Washington; in our own beds; eating our own food; and our own patterns which tempo the ease to loving and knowing. We were reminded we can never go back—we can only go forward. And maybe the most comforting and familiar, there is no place like home.
Our journey was rich in making some new memories and recalling old ones; but as we neared our return, our spirits rose and when the garage door opened? It was as if Auntie Em and Uncle Henry were ready for us, knowing all along the return would be more than we ever imagined.