Thursday, March 1, 2012
I've done a lot of travelling in my life. Lived a lot of different places. And loved it all. Ok, not Oklahoma. Really who came up with the state motto "Oklahoma is ok"? Ok is stretching the bounds of mediocrity and the truth. But, in all my travels, I've never been homesick. Until now.
For most of my adult life I was homeless. Don't get me wrong, my husband and I always rented an apartment, condo or a row house, like in Germany. But when the perplexing question of where are you from came up, I never knew how to answer. Was it the town I grew up in that I hadn't lived in for years? The place we lived last? Or the place I loved most? So then I would go into a long explanation, the way military people and nomads of the desert do, covering all three. Just for clarity's sake.
Then one day, free of any obligations for Craig to return to that double wide tent in Iraq or any post housing that ensures that you have absolutely no privacy whatsoever, we got to choose. Which was really confusing for the first few minutes. Should we move back to the small town in New York I grew up in? Did I mention it's right outside of Buffalo? Um. No. Do we move to Florida where my husbands from? Have you been to Florida in August? Um. No. We decided to move to Colorado. Sight unseen, jobless, friendless and having no idea that everyone in Colorado owns a bike and those really tight biking shorts. And we don't.
But, we moved there anyway. And despite the fact that we didn't graduate from the Air Force Academy, train at the Olympic Training Center, compete in triathalons, ski at Breck (that's Colorado code for the mountains of Breckenridge) and weren't the founders of a conservative religious group, we fit in. Surrounded by trees, mountains, fresh air and the occasional bear, mountain lion or rattlesnake, but most of all, friends. This is home.
And it's where I want to be more than anything today. Don't worry, tomorrow's another day. And don't get me wrong, I love Morocco and I'm sure someday I'll be writing some sappy ass post about how I miss it. I know I will. But I'll be writing it from home where I will be swaying in the breeze on a hammock tied between two trees on my laptop. Until I see a mountain lion and then drop the laptop and run. In which case, I'm pretty sure that sappy ass story is gonna go down with me.