A happy middle.

May 23, 2011

One blog I read and love for both the words and the pictures is Kelle Hampton. I am using her words today to start this post, because when I read it my eyes started to well and my stomach did a mini-flip.

The unfortunate part of going home to visit is that once you are there, you begin to remember what you gave up to move away. Maybe you can have the best of both worlds. Where sometimes it's hard, but most of the time you make it work. Where staying home and going home mean two different things but somewhere in between, there's a happy middle.

Remembering what I gave up to move away hits me hard each and every time I go home.

Green fields with barbwire fences sprawling across miles upon miles of country roads, oak trees stretching up to the skies from the soft, grassy ground.


Family that stretches beyond a mother and father and sister and brother, but into an aunt and uncle and cousins who's labels don't really do justice to the fact they are more like the other half to our family.



The kinds of hugs and smiles and humor only a little brother can provide, with a sweet nature toward his oldest of sisters.


Face-to-face interaction with my parents with no distance in miles or separation by time zones, wine or coffee in hand, just talking.



Having to squeeze big life moments such as these into fast weekend trips limited by vacation days and airfare and getting back to the real life work world in time, not getting to relish in the little things that these big life moments bring.


This tree was planted when I started college back in 2003. As it has grown, so have I. I look at it, remembering when it was a sapling. And I remember when I myself was a sapling, eight years ago. I've grown, too.


Going home is hard because I know I will have to eventually come back to my new home that I've lived in for going on four years. Four years, yet I still haven't settled in completely. I don't feel all here yet and maybe I won't ever feel that way. Maybe I'm not meant to. Moving here has allowed me to gain more than just what I left behind, because I know what I left behind hasn't gone anywhere. It has stayed, waiting. It's like time freezes and I can pick up where I last left off.

But regardless of where I'm at, I've learned beyond a shadow of a doubt that when we take those big steps in life - whether we make the decision to move forward with our future, settle into a new and unfamiliar place, give a promising relationship an honest chance - good things happen.


 As Kelle said, "...somewhere in between, there's a happy middle."

Pin It!

5 comments:

  1. I love going home to visit too. It is wonderful to see old friends and landmarks from my childhood.

    ReplyDelete
  2. gosh, i love this post (and kelle hampton!).

    as you know, i can totally relate. i've lived in my new home for almost 10 years and it still doesn't feel like home the way my parents' new house or the place i grew up does. but it's funny because if i hadn't ever moved here i wouldn't be married to chris or have baby meredith, so i am eternally grateful i'm here.

    definitely a happy middle.
    thanks so much for this post. you summed up in one post what i was trying to articulate in several posts last week.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I completely understand. I just came back from a trip home and there were many tears on the way to the airport...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Going back "home" is so great, but it's a different kind of "home." It's not the life I've built with my husband, it's the life I used to have as a single woman. It's hard to combine the two. Somehow, someway, we'll find our way back "home" though.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Wow, Jordy! This is so fitting for life for me right now... I'm moving 2.5 hours to live with my boyfriend that I've been in a relationship with for over 2 and a half years...we're finally giving US a chance and I'm going to everything unfamiliar!!! Now, it's only 2.5 hours, but I'm still giving up everything and leaving my HOME... scary!

    ReplyDelete