For so long, pieces of my heart have been scattered around and I have felt divided and rootless. Our first few years in New York stripped us bare and laid out flaws and strengths apparent for all to see. At times, living in NY felt like a prison I couldn't escape. Where Sweden had adventure and interest around every corner, NY presented relentless and prosaic challenges. Going back to the homeland, to the high, cold desert plains and mountains of Wyoming felt like an escape and respite from the beat and humidity that seemed to represent all the things I couldn't overcome.
Then, things changed. Riyadh reset my perspective and gave us the freedom to overcome the restrictions we fought against. Keys to our new home that came with mortgage payments and property taxes meant new opportunities and settling down.
Now my trips to the homeland aren't so much an escape as they are a chance for my children to build relationships with extended family. We are the outliers-the exotic family far away from everyone.
I am excited but I am not running there to escape. I leave from a place of contentment. Home, home in NY, calls to me. My bedroom with its airy, white, and cool curtains and comfortable bed is a refuge. Each room in my home serves its purpose in a comfortable manner that reflects the needs of our family.
My garden and yard intrigue me with all their surprises. Walking around my home always yields secret delights. I eagerly anticipate the blooming of different shrubs and plants, each one bringing beauty to the landscape.
We are settled with friends and responsibilities. People depend on us... And we depend on them.
We have summer traditions we eagerly await: lazy days swimming at the lake, watching a double feature until the early hours of the morning at a drive-in movie theater, exploring the Dutchess county fair, eating outside on the deck under the canopy, swimming lessons, and trips up north to the Adirondacks.
The more pleasures and delights I discover, the harder it is to leave. The pull for the homeland becomes more about the people than the place. I feel more and more rooted to a new home, connected to the place, as much as the people.
© 2007-2016 TIFFANY WACASER ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Then, things changed. Riyadh reset my perspective and gave us the freedom to overcome the restrictions we fought against. Keys to our new home that came with mortgage payments and property taxes meant new opportunities and settling down.
Now my trips to the homeland aren't so much an escape as they are a chance for my children to build relationships with extended family. We are the outliers-the exotic family far away from everyone.
I am excited but I am not running there to escape. I leave from a place of contentment. Home, home in NY, calls to me. My bedroom with its airy, white, and cool curtains and comfortable bed is a refuge. Each room in my home serves its purpose in a comfortable manner that reflects the needs of our family.
My garden and yard intrigue me with all their surprises. Walking around my home always yields secret delights. I eagerly anticipate the blooming of different shrubs and plants, each one bringing beauty to the landscape.
We are settled with friends and responsibilities. People depend on us... And we depend on them.
We have summer traditions we eagerly await: lazy days swimming at the lake, watching a double feature until the early hours of the morning at a drive-in movie theater, exploring the Dutchess county fair, eating outside on the deck under the canopy, swimming lessons, and trips up north to the Adirondacks.
The more pleasures and delights I discover, the harder it is to leave. The pull for the homeland becomes more about the people than the place. I feel more and more rooted to a new home, connected to the place, as much as the people.
© 2007-2016 TIFFANY WACASER ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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