Or at least that’s the way
it feels, five and a half months from the leap. We’re intending to return to my
home state, our home country, at the end of this latest bout of expat-ing.
This choice, more emotional
than logical, was based in part on how I was feeling two summers ago, after our
first year in Doha- so enormously relieved to be back in a place with mountains
and green and people who drive slowly. Back then I decided we should make
moving back there the goal for when my husband’s contract finishes in Qatar. Since
then I can’t say I’ve grown to love Doha but I have grown to tolerate it, with
great affection for certain people and certain corners. The whole process has
reminded me that anywhere can become home eventually and has weakened my
resolve that there is one most perfect place for us to move.
Another factor is that in
all our moves, none have landed us in places where we knew more than a handful
of people. My home state has a web of connection with family and friends and
the idea of that is very appealing.
I have fears and
misgivings. Having never, as an adult, lived in one place for more than three
years, I’m not even sure that I can, even while we talk about this next move
being to the place where we will see all the kids grow up and graduate from
high school. As if we can possibly know
enough to make the right choice, especially as the stakes seem to get higher
with each successive move. The part that doesn’t let me go back to sleep when I
wake up at 3am is the part about how there is no long-term anything without an
income, and the planning so far has not included jobs.
And then recently, just
when my trust in my own decision-making was at a very low point, one of my
favorite people suggested moving to her hometown, and except for the fact that
it’s thousands of miles from my home state, it has everything- mountains, friendly
people, indoor and outdoor climbing for one kid, horses for another, great
schools for all three. I couldn’t not put it on the list of possibilities.
I know that it’s better to
talk about this in terms of “intentions” rather than “plans,” as I'm aware from
abundant experience what can happen to plans, and very quickly too. I also know
how hard it is to “re-pat”: to re-orient and re-calibrate to the culture and
pace of one’s home country after living abroad. We surely have plenty of work ahead
of us, no matter where we end up.
P.S. also going to keep in mind this one, about how it isn't really a void at all.
