I had that feeling in the pit of my stomach this morning when I was walking with Aimee at the cemetery. Do you remember being a kid and feeling sick in your tummy and just wanting mommy or daddy or to be home? Do you remember what it felt like to feel homesick? Sick for the feelings of belonging, for the familiar, for what you could understand and count on? It wasn’t always great at home. Sometimes it was even scary. But it had become familiar. It was yours. Day in and day out, it was what you saw and felt and knew and heard and remembered. It was all you had.
I remember the moment when I was 3 and my father took my hand and walked me into the hospital to visit my mother and new baby brother. My baby sitter Vera left me locked in the car because children weren’t allowed in the hospital. Children didn’t belong there. I was living at Vera’s house while my mother and baby were in the hospital and I didn’t belong at Vera’s house. I didn’t belong at the hospital and I didn’t belong at Vera’s house and I couldn’t go home. But my daddy held my hand and took me with him. I found a place to belong inside his big, strong, solid, caring hand. He invited me to go with him and I belonged.
Walking down the very familiar path with Aimee in the fall mist thinking about autumn and winter and change and ending and knowing I have a few things going that are new and forward thinking and out of my comfort zone, I forgot where I belonged. I wanted my father to hold my hand. I felt homesick. I felt sick in my gut with the fear that there might not be a place for me. Sick that I might be doing something wrong in my life with the changes I am making and I am getting farther and farther away from the familiar where I felt safe and comfortable and knew what to expect.
Soon I will be walking into a new decade of my life. I will be inviting strangers to sleep and make their breakfast and create a short term home for themselves in the basement of my home. Soon I will change my web site design and be more of a blogger/writer and my role as a psychotherapist will take a second seat. Soon I will be fully visible and totally exposed and I will never again have my father’s hand to hold or my partner’s Clo’s high regard to count on.
I am homesick for the familiar and very excited about new beginnings, adventures, and the unknown, with some built in safety features. What was will never be again. What is, is uncertain at the moment. What will be is unfolding and a miracle and has potential to be magical.