Where I Belong

I'm home now. In (gulp) Florida. And it's so unfamiliar.

One of the canals of the Winter Park scenic boat tour

The word home evokes a variety of emotional responses responses for me. I think of warmth and familiarity, a place where I am accepted and known. But I don't feel any of these things here. At least not yet. There are two or three people in the whole state who really know me, and only a few of the streets I've driven are acquiring even the faintest sense of the familiar for me.

I suppose it helps that I didn't expect to feel warm and familiar from the moment I set foot here. I expected I would be tired and frustrated, adjusting not only to a new locale, but also to a new reality: up until a couple of weeks ago, I had always been either a full-time student or full-time employee. And now (gulp), I'm neither. Our insurance agent used the word "homemaker" to describe my occupation. Well ... if you insist. The place and the title are so foreign and unfamiliar.

But I do belong here, nonetheless. It isn't a feeling, but rather a fact of this new life. James is here, his job is here. We are going to have a baby here (and more after this one, Lord willing) and are committed to building a life here.

Washington State will always be where I'm from, and if I think of home, I am naturally going to think of that place first.

But this place? This is home now. And it may not feel like it, but this is where I belong.

Change is a Tricky Thing

[Takes a deep breath as she comes up for air.]

Well, hello there. If you remember that this blog exists, color me impressed! Once a blogging addict, this (along with a number of other things) have fallen to the wayside and gotten dusty as my husband and I prepare for yet another major transition in our lives. After nearly two years of searching, James finally got a job offer! Did I mention it was in Florida? You know, that state that is kitty corner on the map from Washington? The state that is further away from Washington state than any other state in the continental US?

Yeah, that one.

And did I mention he's starting in less than a week -- less than two weeks, in fact, from the date he was offered the job?

It's been a busy couple of years. To recap, this is what has transpired in the past 23 months. 1) James moved to Washington state (sight unseen) from Kansas. 2) We got married. 3) James looks for work in Washington, but in 23 months has no luck finding one. 4) We convert (well, "revert" for James) to Catholicism. 5) We learn we're expecting our first baby. 6) We learn our baby has a severe heart defect. 7) Our baby, a boy named Ewan, dies in my arms at 16 days old after enduring multiple surgeries and procedures aimed at attempting to correct the heart defect. 8) After Ewan's birth and death, I'm on unpaid maternity leave (husband still unemployed). 9) Still unable to find employment, James begins trading options again. For the amount of time and money invested, a disappointing return. 10) I return to work in February 2011 after a 5-month absence. 11) A little more than a month after I return to work, I learn that the company I work for has been sold to another company. Cue questions about my employment.

And now, 12) James gets offered (and accepts) a job in Florida. 13) James and Kirsten move cross country. Oh, and James goes ahead of Kirsten to start working. She stays behind to keep working at her job, fulfill the lease obligation on their apartment, and maintain benefits while they wait for James' benefits to kick in at 90 days.

What?!

I didn't need it to tell me it's been a -- shall we say "stressful"? -- year for us. But I took this test to tell me anyway. Certain life events are assigned a point value and the combined total puts you in a particular category in terms of your stress. Let's just say that my score indicates that maybe I shouldn't be living, or at the very least, that I should be locked in a padded room, kept away from sharp objects, and spoon-fed pureed peas. Perhaps it's a miracle that I'm not.

These recent changes are positive. While tricky to deal with a prolonged and long-distance separation, I know that this move will be a positive thing for us in many ways. Dealing with a prolonged period of unemployment is enough to drive any couple insane. But making this transition happen just might drive me to baldness in the meantime.

I'm thankful for what's happening and look forward to the changes to come. But I sure hope that in His infinite goodness, God will give us some good downtime once I arrive in the sunshine state. I'm hoping that we can both kick up our feet, enjoy an iced beverage, and sleep for about nine days straight.

Nine days sounds about right to me.

Because I didn't realize it until I processed this photo.

This picture of my brother and sister and I was taken this past weekend on my sister's birthday. I love how our arms are around each other and we're facing a gorgeous sunset on a perfect day.

We were pretty normal siblings growing up, not always getting along, but once we grew up a little, we became tighter than tight. People would ask my parents what they did, for the secret sauce of how they raised us that we were still so close. We'd talk about everything and nothing together. We'd play, laugh, cry, discuss, argue, vent, and keep each other awake on long sleepy drives home.

Things have changed a bit since both Peder and I got married. Our bond is still there, but our priorities have shifted and rearranged as we build families of our own.

Facing the sunset made me think of the endings of old things and the beginnings of new things, about how the new things are often only possible when the old things end, about transitions and how they can sneak up on you and take you by surprise. I was thinking symbolically until it became personal and realized the transitions we are facing as individuals and what that means for the bond we have together.

Kaari just turned 30.
Peder and his wife Annie are moving to Texas in a few weeks.
And I am about to have my first baby, a boy with a very special heart.

When I processed this photo, I realized this may have been the last time for a long while that the three of us would be together. And I began to cry because something good is ending, and something entirely new is beginning that none of us knows about yet. The sun has to set before the new day can start.