I've been thinking a lot the last few days about something that has played on my mind on and off since I flew the family nest over eight years ago.
As some of you know, I have had a particular run of bad luck lately and when I was reporting the latest delightful incident to my mother on the telephone she blurted out that she thinks I should come home and so does everyone else because they're worried about me etc. However, mother dearest, I beg and implore of you and ask myself constantly in moments of wonder, where exactly is this home you speak of? In your house in the spare bedroom? With friends in Canterbury? In some new English town?
I asked my sister 'Lauren, where is home exactly?' and she offered up 'Carlisle?', which is where we grew up as children in New England. I suppose for most, the houses we grew up in are the first thing we associate with 'home' but these places are long gone. Where is home NOW?
A 'home' I once had.
Where is home? I have no answer to this question. I have moved 17 times in the last eight years... at first I would try my hardest to make the place my own and make it as cosy as possible. Now I simply try my best with the materials at hand but there is always this niggling feeling of homesickness, or this desire to create a space that is wholly my own and spells my name. The point is, I'm not homesick for any particular place, it's just a feeling that is always sitting inside me. Will I ever find it? And is 'it' a person or a place or simply just a feeling to satiate somehow?
I think the Kings of Convenience put it quite nicely in their song 'Homesick'.
Anyone else homesick for no particular place?
Anyway, I was reading old messages in my Facebook inbox this evening and it's amazing how times passes. It was really fascinating to read documents of my past. The people that come and go and some of the connections made that somehow come to nothing or to great friendships. I have made some wonderful friends through social networking because it's just so easy to say hi to an etsy seller, or a mutual friend and it's so lovely and rare to find people sometimes who you can really banter with. There was one person in particular with whom I used to have the most incredibly eccentric correspondence with. In fact, our first meeting ended quite outside of normal social boundaries so I suppose that set the tone. We don't talk so much these days but just reading the old messages this evening made me laugh out loud and transported me immediately back into the past- the power of good writing is so strong like that. I miss having someone to write to.
Perhaps I need a new pen friend! If you are wildly funny and witty get writing!
It's getting rather late now and I need to do exciting things like washing and there's a whole bunch of dates that need the stones removed before breakfast. YES. Just thought I'd share my ramblings with you this evening... I hope you don't mind.
PS. I can't believe I'm actually considering de-stoning dates at midnight. When did it come to this?
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