I was born in a town that is now part of Greater London, England. When I was 5, my family moved to Canada, leaving behind our home. It was so long ago that I don’t remember how deeply homesick I may have been. I do know that I made new friends at school and settled in. We weren’t the only Brits in our community of Stratford, Ontario, so there were still traditions, and favorite foods, and people who talked like we did, and a familiarity about daily life. Being so young, I quickly absorbed and assimilated Canadian culture.
When I was 11, my parents separated, and Mum and I moved away. Again, I left behind what had come to be my home. I still came back every other weekend to see Dad and my brother and some of my friends. It was a few years before Mum and I settled in one place, but I always had my home base to return to.
From Grade 8 to Grade 12, Mum and I lived in a town of 3,000 people. That place never felt like home. It’s really hard to move into a small community where cliques are already forged. The saving grace for me was the 3 close friends I had that made life bearable. I also fell in love with the house we moved to about a mile outside of town. We had 5 acres that were surrounded by conservation area. Having a quiet, natural environment outside my back door to explore was heaven. If I could have picked that plot up and moved it to Stratford, I would have been happy.
I went to live with Dad back in Stratford for Grade 13. The extra year was like first year of university, only done at high school. It was great to be back in the city that felt like home and making new friends, at least for a while. I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up, so I stayed while almost all the friends I was close to went away to university. I felt angsty about that at the time, but, in my older, wiser years, I realize that everything happens for a reason, just the way it’s supposed to. I’m at peace with that choice.
A couple of years later, I finally went to university. I loved the academics; I didn’t particularly love the rest of the scene. I was like a fish out of water and couldn't wait until I could go back home for a visit. Circumstances were never the same there, but I had that feeling inside of familiarity. During summer holidays, I went to Calgary, Alberta for work. I stayed with Mum and my stepfather, and I never left, even though they did the very next year.
I’ve lived in Calgary for 34 years now. In many ways, it has become my home. I’ve lived here more than half my life. I built my own world, independent of familial ties. I was in charge of the direction of my life, which has turned out over the years to be both a blessing and a curse. I have so much to be grateful for: amazing friends, some who have come and gone, as is the way of things; work that has been challenging and fun (not always, but mostly); access to all the benefits of a city of a million people, like theatre, concerts, sporting events, great restaurants, and anything else you need or want; time for myself and personal growth.
Sadly, for the past few years, I’ve known that it was time to move on. But I didn’t. The good still outweighed the bad. A year ago, I helped Mum move back to Stratford after a 30-year stay in Florida. I started thinking then of moving myself back. But I didn’t.
This March, Dad passed. I was there for the week before he died. I’m grateful that I could be with him when he took his last breath, but he didn’t know who I was. His dementia stole what could have been a bonding time for us. I know that our souls communicated in the spiritual realm, but my heart missed out. I said what I wanted to say to him; I told my dad that I loved him. I wish I could have heard him say it back one more time.
During the two weeks I was in Stratford, I decided that it was almost time to return. I didn’t want to have another wound of regret for not spending more time with Mum before she takes her leave. My timeline was somewhat vague; I only knew that I’d make the move “this year”. Mum accidentally made that decision for me when she had a fall and ended up in the hospital with screws in her hip.
Next week, I’m finally going home. I’m packing up 34 years of my life, stuffing it into a truck, and driving across country by myself. It’s going to be quite an adventure. Naturally, I have mixed feelings after all this time. There’s a lot that I’m leaving behind, but I’m not moving somewhere foreign to me. People speak my language. I’ve spent happy years there. Certain things around town have changed, but there’s enough that I still love to make me happy. I have friends that are dear to me that I’ll get to spend time with. My brother and his family are close by. I’ll be with Mum.
I think that when they say, “You can’t go home,” they’re saying that things never stay the same. That’s just a given, no matter where you are. Change is the only certainty of life. But, you can always go back to where your roots are, the fertile soil that nourishes your soul. For me, there’s a quality of light that feeds me, something in the air that soothes me, a vibration that flows through me, an energy of love that warms my heart in the place I call home.
I’m excited for my new adventure. I’m glad to be going home. This may be my only chance to drive across this beautiful country, so I want to enjoy the journey. I’ll post some notes from the road.
If you’re lucky, you already know where home is for you. If you’re not already there, please consider that decision. Perhaps, you haven’t found it yet. Keep looking until you do. You’ll be surprised what a difference it can make to your life to be where you belong. I’d love to know where home is for you. Will you share?
Welcome back to another of your homes in the UK @PinkyH60
It's strange what we attach ourselves to and what we decide to call our home and what we attach ourselves too.
I've always lived in one place and I don't think I feel that attached to it.
For sure, the PEOPLE we connect with in a place is what defines it, for me anyway.
What's strange is can live 50 steps away from someone amazing and never ever know it. And that can happen anywhere in the world ;-)
Isn't there a saying?
"home is where the heart is"
I wonder what it takes for
"home is wherever the heart is right now"
and I think it comes back down to the people you find where ever you are.
Some might suggest that people find you, and I guess to some extent, for that instantaneous "connection" it is true.
I wish I knew how we could all find the people we need, where ever we are, because I'm pretty sure they are out there, maybe only 50 steps away.
As for "home" - I'm not sure I'll ever find it...
BTW do they not have duck ponds in Calgari ?
@reikimusic - They do. Not any swans that I know of. I get what you're saying about the people making a place feel like home. For me, there's an additional element as well. I really connect with the vibe of the land. If you're into reiki, you probably understand what I mean about vibes. :)
Great post, I moved from my hometown 21 years ago. I was homesick for a really long time. Now, at age 45 I realize home truly where you make it.
I am originally from England near London. I left there to live in Germany over 20 years ago. Although I had lost my mother before I left, my father is still there. To be honest, I do not think I could live there again. Even though I visit occasionally, the thought of going back to live is far from my mind. I wish you good luck .
Thank you for sharing your story enjoyed reading it
I find it incredible how a site like Steem is encouraging a lot of sharing of personal stories, and how we got from point A to point B in life. I wonder if that was part of the model when it was set up, or is something that's happening unexpectedly. Either way, this has all the hallmarks of great community dynamics. Loved your story. I am a huge anglophile, so I was a bit sorry yo see you uprooted from Greater London at a young age. Would have personally loved to have grown up there. As it is, I go to England with some regularity, and it's a place I would cheerfully move to in a heartbeat. My significant other is British. When we tie the know later in the year, I guess that means I'll be British at some point, too!
Thanks, Andy. I'm usually pretty cautious about what I post online. I'll be adding to this story as I move. One thing I haven't said yet is that I haven't been back to England since 1974. I watch a lot of British shows online, just to stay connected to the culture. If I do well on this site, perhaps I'll be able to take a long awaited trip back.
You will really enjoy going back! Have you watched the BBC series, Life on Mars? If not, you should. It will take you straight back to 1974...
Thanks for the tip Andy. I just looked it up. That sounds like something right up my alley.
Thanks for your sharing with us @pinkyh60.
That's why I really exciting in Steemit, not for benefit only, but we can reading & knowing a lot from other's stories & experiences.
So very sorry for the loss of your dad. I know your mom's got to be so glad you're going to join her in your new, old home. It'll be neat seeing how your story unfolds.
Thanks, @steemitpatina. I miss Dad a lot. It's going to be a long, challenging trip, but I'm going to have as much fun as I can.
I forgot to put in image credits. The picture of Calgary (with my caption) is by yycfredferguson on Pixabay under CC0 Public Domain license. The picture of the Avon River in Stratford was taken on my iPhone. :)
Great sharing @pinkyh60. Loved reading your story. Really enjoy your writing style. Keep it up.
For me home is Melbourne, the place where I migrated to when I was a child. It is the place where I've spent the majority of my life. But for some reason, there are times it still doesn't feel quite home. There are times that I long to be back in China, my place of birth, and at other times, somewhere completely different.