I felt homesick as the plane descended into Seattle’s SeaTac airport.
To the west, the Olympic Mountains, my Olympics, sported a light covering of snow.
Above, the sky was a glorious blue.
Hmm. I remember the Puget Sound area mostly in shades of gray.
But that day in May welcomed me home instead.
I knew I was feeling homesick.
But for where?
We moved away more than 25 years ago.
Homesick for the Washington past? Or the present?
It can be hard to know.
The four years we lived in Washington were wonderful.
Our former house is long sold. The children grown up and out into the world.
Do I miss Kitsap County? My house? My life? The Navy?
Maybe all of them.
How can I go to Seattle and not take a ferry ride–and then see friends?
This time it was a two-day trip. We watched the sunset over Kitsap County, a view we seldom saw.
We’ll visit next time.
But Washington isn’t the only place I feel this tug.
Aloha Homesick
After Washington, we moved to Hawai’i.
I’ve been back four or five times since–always stopping in O’ahu to visit favorite spots.
Almost all my friends have long moved away.
The church remains, however, and we like to visit the pastor and his wife.
On the last trip, I drove my daughter crazy as we went past all the libraries I used to frequent.
“How come you know where all the libraries are?” she asked, incredulous.
O’ahu was a place for reading and dreaming.
The major writing and research began there, too.
I’m not sure what I miss the most–well, okay, it’s the trade winds.
What about Connecticut?
“They” say you were the happiest wherever you lived when your children were young.
I had enough children spread far enough apart, therefore, to have been happy in Connecticut, Monterey, Washington, and Hawai’i.
Few in my family, however, remembered our years in Connecticut–and that includes my husband. (Who was out to sea, of course).
To drive past all my favorite haunts, all changed or gone now, can be a challenge.
After the last visit with the family, when they didn’t recognize anything, I decided to take charge of the memories.
“It was a perfect life. Meals were always balanced, the laundry always up to date. My hair looked terrific, my figure perfect, and I never raised my voice.”
Why did they look suspicious?
If they can’t remember reality, why shouldn’t I improve the story?
Can we ever really go home?
Physically, we can always drive the old streets and see the land’s contours.
But the life, the house, the people?
Several houses where I’ve lived are gone. (14 moves will do that for you.)
The people I loved there are scattered or dead.
But I can stand on street corners, face the wind, and I’m a little girl once more.
The scent of flowers, the baking sun, the feathery pepper trees–are all part of home.
And the stories never end.
I’ve written down a lot of them.
Reading through them always makes me smile–homesick, maybe.
But mostly thankful for all the opportunities to live in seven states and know many, many wonderful people.
What am I really homesick for?
No place, no one. They all live in my heart and memory–safe and full of blessings.
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Can you be homesick if there’s no home? Click to Tweet
I was homesick for two places when I was three years old – and through my early childhood. We had traveled halfway across the globe in two years, with numerous stopovers along the way, so how could I be homesick for any place at all?
My mother wrote to “Mummola’s” (Grandparents) from Kunming, “Lisa said she has forgotten two books at Mummola’s home. She wants to come to get them.” and “Lisa says her best friend lives at Mummola’s and is waiting for her to come home.”
The secind place was heaven. My oldest brother went there when he was four. I had said, “Mom and I are going to live with Jesus and the angels.”
Last year I found two photos, one taken 1937, outside a hospital in Shenyang, Manchuria. There are my parents with their newborn first son. In the other photo from the same spot, taken 1947 on my second birthday, Mom is with me and my four siblings, all born between 1939 and 1945.
Stories of Mummolas, and of heaven made me homesick for – ?stability.
What we soon realized was it was our home that we missed–our family–and as long as we can be together, we’re home.
Or, as my husband said, “Wherever Michelle is, that’s home.”
You may not even be able to return to some of the places you lived. 🙁
So beautifully written! I love the view of the majestic mountains as you fly into Sea-Tac airport.
Totally–and I’m so pleased when they come out to greet me–as they did in that first photo! The weather was glorious all weekend and the flowers showing off to great appreciation!
It’s been a deathwatch these last hours
for an old beloved dog,
and no Scriptures, and no powers
can keep me from the fog
inhabited by days of yore,
the bright and jolly time
that is gone, but came before
the sorrow now is mine.
I want fate’s spindle to unwind,
that present comes from former thread,
that today can come behind,
that a love will not lie dead,
and that somehow will come the way
to live again a golden day.
I remember a high school teacher discussing Joni Mitchell’s lyrics for her 1969 hit. We pondered the meaning of her song and he brought us to understand our homesickness for the Garden. “ We are stardust, billion year old carbon. We are golden, caught in the devil’s bargain and we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.”
From his Christian perspective, it was surprisingly true. We long for what we left when sin entered the space where we once belonged. Joni didn’t understand the cost to go back (which is actually moving forward!) through the blood of the One Who made us.
Here’s David Crowder’s modern take:
“Take me back to the garden
Take me back and walk with me
For Your presence I am longing
Take me back, God, take me back
Back to Your kingdom, come
Take me back, back to Your kingdom, come”
Thanks for the memories! You left a little bit of yourself everywhere you lived, Michelle, and I am grateful for the timing of your presence in HI.
A friend told me once that our unease with this life is because we all want to return to the lovely life in the Garden of Eden. Great lyrics saying the same thing. xoxox