I once had a roommate who didn’t like being away from home. She didn’t like vacations, road trips, impromptu weekend getaways, surprises, planes, trains and automobiles. Actually, I think she did like automobiles because they got her from work to home and from home to her boyfriend’s house. All of the places she loved. (even work!) All of the places she felt comfort.
I could honestly relate, to an extent.
There is a side of me that is adventurous open to anything. This side of me dreams about beach vacations, whale watches, glacier helicopter rides, mountains and moose safaris. And every square inch of California and its waters. This side of me on a trip will live each minute to the fullest and will experience sadness at the mere thought of the trip/vacation ending.
The other side of me is a homebody and fears anything that takes me away from my rock, my homebase. This side of me on a trip will feel disoriented and anxious and will watch the clock and the days melt away with excitement at getting back home.
I don’t always know which side of me is going to coincide with a given trip. And I don’t know all of the factors that make it this way. Timing, obviously. Where I’m going and where I’m coming from. Less solid homes in my past may have given me better trips. More stable homes may have given me clock-watching trips. It really depends on the separation anxiety of the time – who or what I don’t want to be away from. I guess that’s really it. The separation anxiety and the deep rooted reason for its existence. Work, home, family, school, children, heartbreak, money, grief. So many reasons to not want to separate.
And, of course, so many reasons to want TO separate.
It’s always a little funny going back to New Jersey for a trip. It’s oscillating between two places that are kinda “home.” People often call where they came from home, even years after the fact. It’s a place they can always go back to for familiarity or family or friends. Or all of the above. I swear up and down that I could never live in Jersey again and while I’m 99.99% sure that’s the case and that western Mass is truly where it’s at, they’re both “home.” So I guess I’m lucky.
My separation anxiety about this past weekend is that I can’t stand when the four Bowmans are apart. I just can’t stand it! When it was Des not coming home from the hospital, I felt incomplete. This past weekend without Cassidy, I felt incomplete. Scarlet is going away this coming weekend. I’ll feel incomplete.
What can I say? We’re a family. A new version of the old Bowman.
Being back at home and together feels amazing. The sun and warmth are so rich and I can feel the best of summer and the best of the coming fall. The hummingbirds are as active as ever and our sunflowers are much taller than I am. Being out in public and being at “my” library in “my” town felt stupendous. Yet it always takes me a day or two of turnaround time to adjust to being back at home. My head is spinning with missing my parents and the farm and my siblings and friends.
Sometimes I just wish it could all just mush together. A little closer, a little tighter. My world. With yours.
Every so often I have to clear out some space on my iPhone and download my photos onto the web. Enter recent cuteness: