I left you three years ago. In a cloud of righteous indignation, I packed my possessions into a van and my children onto an airplane and with that, I was gone. I never said goodbye to you, and I didn’t much care.
My entire world changed when I left you. I saw things, I learned things, that people like me, people from the slums of southeast Philadelphia, seldom know exist. I learned that there is magesty in this world beyond that which I could ever dream or measure. I realized that there is, indeed, a life beyond the borders you’d provided me and I’d accepted without consideration. I loved like I thought I never would, I reveled in the beauty of the life that had always laid just beyond my fingertips, I reached out to the world and it swallowed me whole.
The core of the person that I am has changed in these three years without you.
I dared to allow myself to dream of a life beyond your tumultuous shores. I’d seen the height of you and the breadth of you and depth of you and I still wanted more. I just didn’t want it from you anymore. Your peaks and your valleys proved to much for me to bear in the end, our shared history haunted me, our commonalities grew to frightening, and I began to care about you more than I am comfortable caring about anything in this life.
So I left you one sunny summer day with a plane ticket in my hand and your sons and daughters in my arms and I fully intended to stay gone forever.
Things in life seldom work out the way I plan for them to.
The past few weeks have been a blur of sorting my life into neat, little columns. I’ve made detailed spreadsheets and official phone calls. I cut my hair off and everything close to my heart out. I turned the treble down and the volume up and sought asylum in the bottom of a bass line, just so I could feel. I did the things I always do when everything I ever wanted is yanked out from under my feet, which happens more often in this life than I care to admit.
And I sit here this morning, typing with torn, chewed fingertips, reconciling myself to the fact that maybe, sometimes, I just want the wrong things and that you are where I am meant to be, for better or worse, for richer or poorer. I have come back home to you, to the very heart of you, your sons and daughters beside me. We are ready for you. We only hope you are ready for us, too.
Tagged with: ex ex pat stuff
Zakary
Monday, 2 November, 2009 at 18:34I hope everything is cool and be safe.
*fingers crossed for Colorado*
tracey
Monday, 2 November, 2009 at 19:20Well, shit. This made me cry but only because I am desperately trying to document something and am failing miserably and find your words to be much more inspiring to my emotions than my own. And that fucking sucks.
But good luck on your move. Hope it’s smooth.
Mrs. Schmitty
Monday, 2 November, 2009 at 19:37Hugs to you.
One Mom's Opinion
Monday, 2 November, 2009 at 20:20I didn’t see this coming. Details, where too?
Jennifer A
Monday, 2 November, 2009 at 20:29Welcome home. You’re closer now and don’t need a visa to come to BlogHer.
traci
Monday, 2 November, 2009 at 20:37I’d assume that should you have relo’d to The East Coast you would have already called me and asked ‘How the hell does anyone wind up here?’
Right?
Right.
jess
Monday, 2 November, 2009 at 21:15That really sucks, i’m sorry you had to leave a home.
Lorna
Monday, 2 November, 2009 at 22:17So I’ve been MIA from blogger and you quit twitter so I had to find out via Redneck Mommy’s tweets that you had been “kicked out of Canada”. I don’t know if appologies or condolences are in order. You sounded kinda sad about it in your post, but I also believe that things always happen for a reason, even if you don’t know the reason yet. Anyway, welcome back, and if you are anywhere near Phoenix I promised you a drink the next time you were here.
Kristin
Monday, 2 November, 2009 at 22:23And awwwww shit. We never did go for that drink on the town.
Hope there is much peace and laughter in your new old home.
TheExpatresse
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 0:07I haven’t really lived in the USA since October 1999. (Crikey! Just realized that’s 10 years now.)
I sort of joked during the Bush Years that, like Picasso during the Franco years, I was not going to return home until that era had passed. Now, sometimes, I think I’m too old for this expat shit. Every country has its good and bad. If I live there, maybe I can work on the good stuff.
Course, that all involves getting paying work there for everyone, first.
Welcome home. I’m in Ohio for December and much of the summer . . . if your sippy cup needs a refill . . .
hollysmom
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 1:33The Dollar will re-gain value now!
Colleen
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 2:36(bigsigh) oh my. Seeing that picture just about did it to me all OVER again. Tears. hugs. making you laugh till you damn near pee. and now? I’m going to go read my book and think that sleep will be LOVELY and get up at a normal time tomorrow and go on about life here, thinking about you when I or see all the places we’d been, you’d been, we did etc.
You know, life as normal.
kootnygirl
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 7:01What?! You got kicked out? How the hell does that happen?
We let the criminals and deadbeats in, and we make Mr. Lady and her family leave. I’m not so proud to be Canadian right now.
Safe travels, and happy landing.
habanerogal
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 13:42We will all miss you up here in the Great White North but now you can tell us your back in the U. S of Eh stories which I hope will greatly amuse us.
April
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 14:19What did I miss? Where will you be living?
hubs
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 14:25Oh I’m ready. I mean, I missed you the first time around. So yeah, I’M READY.
Lee of MWOB
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 16:15Whaaaaa??????? I started a job a week ago. I’ve lost half of my mind. My online life is suffering greatly but you have been on my mind. Now I know why.
Wow.
All will be fine because you are you and you know how to live this life.
Miss you.
Hockeyman
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 20:25I second what Maria said way up there ^ all of it.
Welcome home.
taj
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 21:23Denver?
Jan
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 21:38If you’re coming back here, I’ve got a perfect playdate friend waiting for 3of3. I mean, if she’s looking for someone with whom to take over the world, and whatnot. Plus, she has a bitchin’ kitchen. Just sayin’.
Kelley @ Magnetoboldtoo
Tuesday, 3 November, 2009 at 23:13:( I have no idea what is going on.
So I feel like home. And I DO NOT LIKE IT!
Melanie @ Mel, A Dramatic Mommy
Wednesday, 4 November, 2009 at 0:21I’m sad that you have to leave the familiar and comfortable. But. Hot damn you’ll be on US soil! That makes me grin from ear to ear even as your post has me reaching for a tissue (again!)
Amo
Wednesday, 4 November, 2009 at 6:41Where ever you live, you’ll make it a wonderful home. Moving sucks, but having your family together in one place is worth it. Best wishes and safe travels.
Mike Marshall
Wednesday, 4 November, 2009 at 7:04Hey Mr. Lady! What the fuck……………..Peace, Mike.
AmyLK
Wednesday, 4 November, 2009 at 14:31Good luck getting settled!
Al_Pal
Friday, 6 November, 2009 at 0:22Moving surely does suck. Sounds like there is some sadness, so I am sorry.