Forgetfulness & Bravado

It's amazing what you can forget in 6 years. For instance, a bit less than six years ago, Kim and I were just married and moving to Tucson. At the time, our new home of Tucson definitely didn't feel like it. It was an intimidating, foreign place, and I was homesick for a place where I had no home. We knew nobody there, and the future (including things like jobs, money, schooling, and housing) was very uncertain. That first year was ... unpleasant.

But then it got better. We fell in love with the desert, fell deeper in love with each other, got up on our feet, got jobs, found a decent place to rent, (eventually) made some great friends, and finished our degrees. Life was stable. Tucson was home, and it felt like it. The saguaros had long since become our friends.

Of course, I'd forgotten how difficult the move to Tucson was before I moved to Seattle. I gave lip service to how difficult it would be. Now, I'm being given a thorough refresher on just how bad it really is. This is one of the hardest things I've ever done. I think it would be easier than the move to Tucson if Kim were here, as we are a bit older and wiser now. But without her, it's painful. Home is where your heart is, and my heart is in Tucson. I'm terribly homesick and a bit emotionally fragile right now.

The pain is greatly eased when I'm with Kim on the webcams (thank goodness for those), but at work, in a foreign and confusing work environment in a foreign place, it's a challenge to keep my emotions in check. Throwing myself into the work is the best defense, but that itself is difficult.

I love the ocean, pine trees, ivy, moss, and clouds. I even like rain. But the hot sun, the smell of creosote, the sight of a rattlesnake sheltering beneath a blooming ocotillo nestled in a stand of saguaros, all backdropped by low mountains, a vivid blue sky, and a brewing monsoon... that is home.

Perhaps one day, they'll both feel like home.