Monday, October 5, 2009

Far From Home

I have not felt so far from home since Mom's accident. At that point, I felt I was far from home no matter where I was. When I was here, home felt like GA. When I was there, home felt like NC. I essentially moved to NC in 1989! I went home for summers for a couple of years, and I was in school the first 3 years. Those years don't REALLY count, but still, I moved HERE in 1992. It was so hard to be away from home, and many times I wonder why in the world I stuck it out! In retrospect, I realize I could have found another job in GA. It might not have been the exact same thing, but really. Certainly wonderful things happened because I moved here. I would not be the woman I am today if I hadn't, and I would not have the honor of living this life I live. But, sometimes I just miss "home." And I wonder if this will ever BE home.


My dear friend Katrina lost her father last night. And, every nerve in my body wants to be with her. I want to cook something, take it the family, hold her hand, go to the visitation, go to the funeral, hug her mom, hug her sisters and brothers. She is such a good friend, and Doc was such an amazing man. I did not always agree with him, but what parent does a child always understand? One thing I always understood about him, even as a teenager, was his love. He loved in such a big way! His big hugs, his big laughs, his big talks, his big discipline -- they all were models of a loving father, so in a way a picture of God for me. For some reason the thing that is sticking out right now is when Linda, Katrina and I were sophmores, I think, we wanted to take a bus from Marietta to St. Petersburg to visit our friend Patricia who had recently moved. We were all good girls, and Linda and I managed to convince our parents it was OK. Katrina tried, I tried, I even think my mom tried to talk to Doc, but he was having nothing of it. He did not trust what others might do to us. At the time, it felt like an excuse to me and that he didnt' trust us, but he was the boss and Katrina stayed home. Linda and I got on a bus to FL. When I think about that trip, I understand his fears and persistence. That was the first time I ever saw the mentally ill. At the time I didn't know it, but I clearly remember a person talking to door knobs. We made it there and back safely -- except for a sunburn that will probably one day soon turn into skin cancer, but at this point in my life, I think Doc was right. Boy, would he like to hear that! He liked to be right and have others know it. But, at the same time, he was so down to earth. He was a dentist in Cobb county, but he basically managed to live and raise his family on a "farm" - at least by Cobb county standards. Only at Kat's house did I get close enough to a cow to understand just how big they were! And, oh, could he sing with a sparkle in his eye, heart and voice. He loved music and loved sharing it. He passed on that love to his family, and I have been lucky enough to recieve the gift of that music. Karen played for us on many BSU trips in college. Kristy played the violin/fiddle when I didn't even know about the instrument. The two brightest and most recent memories of this music occurred when Mom was in the hospital. The first was when Kat came to to visit at Windy Hill and sang hymns with Mom. It was beautiful. Mom sang along with Kat's beautiful, loving, gentle voice, and I will never forget it. It was a miraculous gift and picture that Mom was in that body somewhere. Then, the Easter Mom was at Kennestone, they were looking for someone to come lead a group on the rehab floor in song. I called Katrina, and she and Doc came and sang. It was the last time I saw him, and he was singing and ministering with his daughter at the very hospital where he took his last breath in this life. I love that man and the legacy he leaves behind. I can't imagine how his children and Kathy must be feeling. What a joy it is to know that he is in heaven rejoicing, singing and not worrying about his health, but oh the hole he left behind!


Remembering this man and knowing my friend is hurting, makes me feel very far from home! I want to be there to celebrate his life, but I really do not know if I am going to be able to make it happen or not. My heart hurts to think about missing it, but my head just can't see a way. Anyway, I'm feeling very far from home and wondering if THIS will ever be home. I know it is home for my children, and it is where I will live my life. If we moved, I'd miss this life and all the friends we have. When I am logical, I can't really imagine living back in GA, but then this homesickness comes along. I guess that is why you should just never leave home. That is what I'm telling my children -- go off to school, go travel, but come home to have children and live your life!

1 comment:

Mitzi said...

I've been thinking of you, in addition to the Hutson's, since I heard. I know how badly you want to be here. I have so many great memories of their house throughout late elementary school and most of middle school. Kristie and I had a lot of fun, but more than anything else, I remember the love. My heart hurts for their pain this week, but I am joyful that Dr. Hutson is singing praise in a perfect place now. Love ya, M