Home

They say you can't go home again. They are right, whoever they are.

Several weeks ago, Em and I decided to make a trip down to Oregon, before her wedding, to visit the friends, and church where Dale pastored before he passed away. I had ambivalent feelings, not sure what to expect, what my emotions would be. I just felt it was a needed thing to do, since I had not been back since we moved 18 months ago.

We had great weather as we started out, got a later start than we wanted, only because we had to turn back after 30 minutes into the drive to get something important. I always figure that is one of those things the Lord has his hand on, and that He was protecting us from something, that it was better to back track a bit, than be where we 'should have been' up the road.

Once we hit Portland and we drove past the VA hospital, my stomach went cold and I wanted to go home. Both Em and I got quite for awhile. I think had it not been for the fact that the ladies had a bridal shower planned for Em the next day, we would have turned around and gone home.
We trudged on, soon enjoying conversation and singing with the music as it played.

Once we got to our old stomping ground, we took a quick drive through town to see what had changed, all of 10 minutes, only to find not much change, other than a few buildings with a fresh coat of paint. It was all very much the same. We drove past our old house, again other than an added fence in the backyard, and plants being bigger, it was still the same.

I'll not continue a blow by blow of the weekend as it would bore you and that is not my desire. But as we started to get with people, have the shower and attend church on Sunday, things felt so odd. Some people greeted us warmly, with big hugs, and even a few squeals of delight, others greeted us with distance, lack of emotion, almost offended at our responses that we were adjusting and doing fine. I felt as though some expected us, even hoped we would be weepy and maudlin, yet found them a bit surprised that we weren't in a dark pit, but moving forward.

I found some of the people, still stuck, not moving forward, as though they were still at Dale's memorial service. Granted there are days, I feel I have moved backwards, and just want to pull the blankets over my head and stay in bed. Daily I feel Dale's loss. I still shed lots of tears. My nights are long and lonely, but I am moving forward. I have no choice but to. Life really does go on, bills need to be paid, plumbing fixed, decisions made, and on it goes. But after being around some of these dear folk, I wanted to scream, 'If anyone has the right to be stuck, to stay gloomy, it is ME, not you!' To be honest, I didn't understand their responses and countenances, and really hoped I wasn't carrying myself like that.

As Em and I headed for home, we knew that this place, where we had lived for 6 1/2years, investing time, and love and sorrow, was no longer home. We had been uprooted, not by choice, and had moved on to different pasture. The Lord has been good. He has met our every need, is seeing us through many changes, and put us in a new place to do new things for Him. Though an old and much use adage, we are to ' Bloom where you are planted", cause, you really can't go home.