Homes

I know Pendleton so well. I know the dust, the farm lands parceled amongst the undulating hills, like a patch work quilt stretching until it rolls out of view. I know the blue mountains in the distance, and the surprising closeness of the stars on a dark night.   How often have I inhaled the cool smell of pine and traced, with my eyes, the outline of the trees, like black lace, against a burning red sunset.  The clouds that roll in are full and fluffy.  When it rained, I would dance on the front lawn transporting myself into a different world, swaying to Enya as the thunder cried through the mountains.  I learned to love the blueberries so round and sensuously clustered together.  I am homesick for it... My parents' home, so snug and tucked away.  it was a haven, a place of tranquility, time to escape and be healed... it will always be a home, my home, a place for my heart... but, now it is only a place to visit... I cannot stay indefinitely... getting there is hard work...and now I must work on building that same sort of home, for my children... a place of safety, love, peace and healing. ... Home can be so many places, it seems to change almost constantly and usually it is the one place you crave the most... the quiet and safety.  There have been a few places, and people that have seemed to embrace me and have become family and home for me... 'home' is always the best place to be :)


Just recently, home has become somewhere different.  We have moved from a small two bedroom apartment with asphalt out front, to a spacious medium/large, three bedroom, 100 year old house with a fenced in backyard and a 15 foot ceiling.  Even though every room is stacked with boxes; the boys seem to relish the exploration of new space.  I wonder how they will feel when everything is all put away.  I can't decide how I feel in this moment.  Anticipation, sadness, overwhelmed... I guess a part of me is a little spoiled and wants more.  Like maybe room enough for a horse (not in the house of course)... or no neighbors, somewhere up in the mountains far away... or I would even take everything put away and feeling like home... right now I just feel suspended... unable to truly breath surrounded by a pile of my belongings.  If my stuff could find a home... then maybe I would feel more at home :).  In later years, will I know this house and this place like I know Pendleton?  Will this place be the one where we welcome more children?  Graduate from school?  Learn, even more, to be poor and in love? Is Provo a place you can know?  Or is it too large to be personal... too many people too close and squished together... and none of us knowing our neighbor.  Sometimes I think that modernity has made it impossible to know each other... we have all been compartmentalized, separated in our homes, cars, cubicles etc...  This is my home now.  This is where my husband and my children are, the loves of my life.  I can plant a garden here.  I will probably sorrow here.  Experience bliss, joy, and happinesses uncountable.   In the end, this is where I will create and come to know the beauty in people, nature and life.   I will post pictures later :)