Going Home

March 2017

We made an unexpected trip to Denver last week.  A friend and former co-worker of J's was shot and killed by her husband, who then took his own life.  It's one of those things you hear about on the news but would never happen in real life.  Marie was one of the nicest people I have ever met.  She was one of those rare souls in life that could spread happiness and laugher just by walking into a room.  To say her death came as shock and her absence will be felt by many would be an understatement.  So when J asked me to go with him to the funeral in Colorado, I was glad to have the opportunity to pay my respects.

We were gone for less than 72 hours but I was nervous wreck leading up to our departure.  This was only the third time I had left the boys for an extended time and making sure every detail of our daily lives are covered for whomever is caring for them can be stressful.  However, my MIL did an awesome job!  When we got home, everyone was healthy and happy and the house was still standing. Can't ask for anything more.

It was also the first time I had been in Colorado since we left 8 months ago.  Honesty, I didn't know how I would feel being back.

During our first 6 months in IL, I didn't allow myself to even think about Colorado and quiet frankly in the beginining I was so busy I never really had time to reflect on the life we left behind.

But sometime after the new year, I was going through old pictures on my computer and the flood gates opened up.  There was also a period in January where the sun didn't make an appearance for almost 2 weeks and I really started to miss the sunny, mild Colorado winters.  So needless to say, I was afraid if I went back there would be a good chance I may never leave.

As soon as we arrived at DIA, it all came back to me.  The familiar terminal, walking outside into the sunshine and warm spring air.  I didn't feel like an outsider or a visitor, I felt like I had just gotten home.  Driving to J's old office, driving to our old neighborhood for dinner and then down to my in-laws house, was a journey I could have done blindfolded.  Normally, when we travel we are going somewhere new and unfamiliar.  It was a very weird feeling to leave our house and children only to arrive in a place that felt more like home.

Over the next two days, we saw countless former co-workers/friends and I was able to spend sometime with a few of my girlfriends.  Spring had already arrived in Denver.  Our big winter coats were left in the back of the car and my sandles made a reappearence...it was so nice to sit in the sunshine again and talk to smiling, happy people.

Surprisingly, I didn't have any major breakdowns, outside of the funeral, and I willingly got back on the airplane to leave.  After all, our little people were waiting for us! But when we walked through the terminal at Midway, I felt like a visitor.

I know if I spend the next decade in Illinois, it will feel like home.  We will establish relationships and routines, routes and places will become familiar.  I have uprooted my life three times to move somewhere completely new, I know there is definitely an adjustment period and I am in the thick of it.  I WANT to be happy in Illinois.  I WANT to give life here a fair chance.  But I am struggling.  Struggling to "be here now".  Struggling to let go of the past.  Struggling with a longing to go home.

L