September 09, 2014

Coming back

My goal to blog once a week this summer kind of fell flat after we got back from California. To be fair, though, a week after I wrote that post we were pretty much back in Regina and summer was promptly over. Except for last weekend, which was glorious, but now it's pushing -1 and I actually dug out my mittens for the drive to work tomorrow. So there's that.

Our trip home was so good and so full. And I had only two surprisingly emotional moments the whole time. And by that I mean there were only two occasions where I nearly lost it.

After a very long day on the way out and missing two ferries due to road accidents and traffic, we got to Victoria an hour after anticipated. I was exhausted, and driving to my mom's house and down the familiar streets I started getting choked up. It's not my neighbourhood anymore. Those streets aren't mine anymore. I'm not going for painfully slow jogs on those hills anymore. Sure, the ugly eggplant coloured house still looks the same and the people at the end of Mom's street are still (how many years later?) painting their siding, but it's not my neighbourhood anymore. Because I live 2000 km away.

And that was a lot to take in.

The other tough moment for me was walking into our church in Victoria. We'd only been going there about eight months before we moved to Regina so it was never the home that the church we grew up in and got married in was. Most of our friends go somewhere else. But when we walked into that church that Sunday morning, 11 hours after getting back from California, it was only about 30 seconds before I was attacked from behind and given a huge hug from one of our good friends. And that made me feel all the feelings.

The drive back to Regina was surreal. We stopped in Swalwell and spent the day with the family, then headed east to Saskatchewan. It felt like a backwards holiday, but as soon as we got into town it was very real. And, yeah, I cried, because Regina isn't home and it feels less like my neighbourhood than the one we used to live in in Victoria. Because at least I can find my way around the old neighbourhood without having to look at Google maps.

But home is where your family is, and Karl is in Regina, and, following that, I think home is where your bed is. And I am in love with my bed. And now that the duvet's on it's kind of like all the good things are all together at once.

The week back was frustrating and crazy. I had vacation brain at work all week and even went so far as to delete meeting minutes I was supposed to send to the whole staff. We also had to paint our entire basement (thus saving us over $800 off of our reno) and that was a whole new level of hair pulling frustration due to a contractor that doesn't communicate as well as we'd hoped. And painting. Because painting always sounds so easy and relaxing but after six hours of it on a Friday night you need to do the dishes to mentally slow down until 1 a.m. Because painting will damage you. So. much. spun. cotton. 

Sunday morning came around, though, and it was glorious. I had breakfast on the deck, then our church had a bbq, and later we invited the neighbours over for a drink on the deck. It was kind of the perfect way to end a hard week.

As we were sitting in church I knew, again, that God brought us to Saskatchewan for a reason. As much as I don't love Regina, I've never really doubted that this is where we're supposed to be right now. We're not thriving like some people would, and I'm so glad we have a house to keep us busy, but we're simple folk and I'm glad that regrets aren't part of this package.

And you know what? In less than 48 hours we're going to be those people with a separate living room and T.V. room. And that just doesn't happen in Victoria for people like us.

I'm looking forward to having you over for a visit in our living room. The pumpkin scones will be just coming out of the oven when you show up.


  1. It gets easier, going home. :)
    Although I never had it quite like you. Victoria was my first away-from-my-growing-up home, but was still close enough to visit often enough. So I had that inbetween stage before moving farther away from home. But isn't it so nice to have such an awesome place to be able to say "yeah, I grew up there!" and have the ultimate excuse to go visit?

    I am so happy our duvet is back on our bed too. Best ever! I especially like it when Calvin tries to hide from ghosts and tigers under it. :)

  2. Don't feel bad. I've been in Alaska almost 5 1/2 years and it still doesn't feel like home, and I don't really think it ever will. I think the only people that really truly feel like "home is where your husband is" are people who have never had to live somewhere that is so isolated and lonely. Maybe in the very basic sense of the word, yeah...home is technically wherever I live...but that feeling of relief and being "home" is always going to remain one place for me, and that place is never going to be Sitka, Alaska. And probably will never be Regina, Saskatchewan. And I don't think there's anything wrong about it. :)


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