It’s official. When people ask us where we are from we say, “Nowhere.”
The word has a peculiar ring.
Here is the surprising thing. After years of planning and months of build-up, wandering off into the wild blue yonder feels a bit colorless.
Mostly, it feels like we are on a long weekend. So far, we visited friends in Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. It feels just the like road trips we have taken in the past and it seems that at any moment we’ll turn the corner and start heading for home. But then, at the end of that thought is the halting realization that we don’t have a home. Like a general afraid his soldiers will retreat, we have burned our ships and have no choice but to charge forward. We’re definitely still figuring it out what that means to our day-to-day ways of being.
Having read that people with amputated limbs sometimes have ghost pains from their erstwhile limbs, Holly refers to our “ghost house” and says that it aches a little. The house is still out there — it just isn’t ours anymore. At a subconscious level, there is still a feeling of attachment. If you were to lose a loved one while you were away it might not really sink in until you came home and had to confront their absence. In our situation, we lost our home and then left town before that new reality could sink in. Because we’re not around and we don’t drive down the same streets, somehow it doesn’t feel as real. The illusion is perpetuated for another day, another week, another month. How long will it last? Will this feeling of connection to a home that doesn’t exist continue until we next drive down that street? Only then will we shake the feeling of this anchor that is no longer connected?
Don’t forget to stop by Wisconsin for some cheese curds
How could we forget cheese curds?!?!
Move forward, leave no trace, smile upon the untold fortune of living in the moment.
Move forward, yes, but I would like to think that we had left some kind of trace!
you have left traces in my heart
It doesn’t sound like you are visiting the southern states but if you do Heather is in Branson, MO. A great place to visit. They can take you boating etc….
I wish! We had to decide a northern v middle latitude and since we thought we’d see all of you in July we picked north. Next time!
I still look for you when I pass the house. I turn and look …
😢
Wow! Congrats, Santillos! We can’t wait to follow your adventure, and hope that our little town can be part of it. I hear 4th if July is a nice time to visit…
Thanks so much for following! We are West coast bound, but do hope to see you again one day…
What a lovely reflection on sense of “home” and attachment to both very real emotional and abstract concepts. Home is a part of our identity and your identity is changing, big time! You’ve entered a liminal space – in between – which can be very uncomfortable, and requires a lot faith. So inspiring.
Thank you. Yes, I’m not sure we appreciated how much our identity was wrapped up in our house until it was gone.
knowing you can create home anywhere – carrying that deep rooted sense of possibility of creating a new home can be the source of strength to draw upon — not a ghost limb. you carry home in your heart – retell the story so it does not leave you aching? you are free! fly friends fly!
As the boys keep reminding us, “Home is where your family is.”