(This blog was written in mid-July 2015)
I just returned from a 12-day trip to Pennsylvania, visiting with my family. It was a blast, but the kids and I were ready to be home.
I have often written about how much I miss living where I grew up, how familiar things are, there, and comforting. I have lamented about not being able to move back to NEPA. I have whined and begged and pleaded with my husband to relocate. Of all the places I have ever lived, making a life in Roanoke has been the most difficult. It took YEARS for me to from solid friendships, here.
But I stepped through a porthole on my way back to Roanoke, this time… almost 10 years to the day from when I first moved here.
I was surprised by what was waiting for me in Roanoke… Refreshing.
I felt like, after such an extended trip away, I was seeing my home with a fresh set of eyes. I had changed up the decor in the dining room right before I left and cleaned like a madwoman, and it made my house so welcoming and inviting. Chuck missed us, and we missed him. He cleaned the kitchen while I was gone and it looks so good!
On another level, sweet friends had texted me while I was away, letting me know they missed me and wondered when I was coming home. We made plans for my return, some BIG plans, too, for the days and months, ahead; play dates, girls’ nights, trips, etc.
Regarding home, though, it is really easy to lose myself in the realm of wifedom and motherhood, to forget the freedom of being just me. As women, the roles we fill in the lives of our family members tend to trump our own wishes and preferences, so much so that we can feel a kind of dread and drudgery in growing older, like we have lost some of our fire. Sometimes, we wonder, even if only for a second, what our lives would be like if we had taken a different path. It is not that I don’t enjoy loving and serving my family and taking care of my home. They are some of the greatest gifts of my entire life. But I believe we do ourselves, our husbands, our children, and our tribe a disservice when we become so encompassed by roles that we lose ourselves.
My mind isn’t old. Over the past few weeks I have spoken with numerous people regarding what age we really feel. The general consensus is that we feel like our mind is still in it’s twenties, regardless of how old our bodies and/or circumstances feel. I tried to describe to a friend what it feels like to make plans outside of my family, just for me. I shouldn’t be as mentally and emotionally taxing as it sometimes is. It feels like your old self is fighting with your young self. As a wife and a mom, I feel guilty for taking a trip with the girls, next year. As the twenty-something I am in my mind, I’m like, “Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” As a soul, I know it is long overdue.
So, early in 2016, I’ll go away from my real home and off the grid for a few days. I’ll take my breather with my girlfrands, get a taste of who ‘just me’ is at age 35, and maybe give Norman Reedus a hug and/or a high five. And then, I will come home to more refreshing and hugs from my loveys.
Places give us new perspectives, so don’t neglect the soul when it comes to adventure, nor when it comes to making a loving and refreshing home. Life’s challenges and trials don’t stop, but keeping your roots deep and your wings healthy helps you through, by the grace of God.
VisionOverVisibility 