A little bit of home

Clipart from Clipartheaven.com.

Our first shipment of the things we wanted with us in temporary housing arrived today. It was supposed to come Dec 30. We actually left Utah a month tomorrow and we only have 3 weeks left in the hotel so seriously, at this point do we need it? Since JaDee also had like 6 boxes of stuff for work and all of our skis and sleds and the cat house/scratch post, I guess so.

This has brought about a number of questions about what makes a home. The things in it? Is it the people who dwell inside the four walls? Is it the community? Friends? Family? Routine? What makes a home a home? What do we mean when we say or cry out,”I want to go home?”

Anyway, Olivia and I were running errands and JaDee was a here for the movers of the short load, so when we got back to the hotel there were all these boxes piled everywhere. She opened the first one full of her and Ethan's "snugglies," as we call our favorite stuffed animals, and exclaimed, "Ohhhhh our things! Look, my lizard! My dress! Your shirt, Mom. Ethan's wolf! Carter's skis!" Her eyes were alight with joy. She was so excited. Giddy actually, as she frantically tried to open all the boxes at once. She proceeded to spend all afternoon playing with the snugglies in the box the empty box they emerged from. This was the first time in 4 weeks she had played independently from me of JaDee.

A little tear came to my eye as I wondered how hard this has been for her. Up until the last couple of days she has been OK. She hasn’t wanted to go home. She hasn’t cried for anything, until the Christmas break came to an end and the boys went back to school and JaDee has started going to work on a regular schedule. Non-vacation type life resumed and yet we were still in a hotel. Still eating in restaurants. Still waiting for the maid to make our bed.
As a result the last couple of days Olivia has asked for Marin and today at lunch she asked where Randy was (yeah, Sherie I am crying as I type this too!). When we say they are in Utah she wants to "Run really, really fast to get there."

I wonder if her transition is still to come. I wonder if this is going to be harder on her htan I thought. I wonder if there is more in her little head than I think. I mean she talks non-stop. Seriously, from the moment she wakes up until her head hits the pillow she is a jabber box (I have no idea where she gets that). I wonder if she will really be OK as we adjust to our new house and if as all of our stuff gets unpacked she will finally realize the permanence (read: 3 years) of this change.

Or is she really resilient and it is me who is broken hearted for her. For all the people in her life who loved her on a daily basis. For her little friends, our neighbors, my friends who also loved her. For her grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. For her backyard that she asked about (Mom, where is my red swing?). For her comfort zone and comfortable routine. For her sweet little girl room that I won't be able to paint in pink plaid unless we buy a place instead of rent. Am I the one who nostalgic for all that we left behind?

So again bears the question: What is home? Will the boxes of our things that unpack slowly make a home for us in Alaska? Could our new neighbor the Government Teacher help make our home? Will it be enough to be just us 5 little Moncurs for Halloween, Easter, birthdays, Christmas? Who else do my kids need besides me? How will I find them? What village will help me raise my child and is that village as good as the one I left behind. Can I do this alone?

I guess all in all there are a lot more questions than answers.

ps-new moose sighting today in the BP parking lot