Going Home

There is no greater comfort in life than going home.

Don't get me wrong, I love where I live (well, except the weather) and I love the family I've built here.  I have an amazing wife, and 3 glorious children.

But, I've come to realize how powerful going home can be.






My wife grew up in a large family; She's the youngest of 7.  She likes to say all her siblings are in each other's back pockets.  They're a pretty close bunch of siblings and unfortunately, she's the only one who doesn't live within 2 hours of everyone else.  She misses them.  And for the first time in my life, I'm beginning to understand how that feels.

The funny part is, I'm not even related to the people who I call family; to the place I call home.  Well, except for one person, but more on that later.

The folks I call family are "step" family, and they live in a foreign country.  I happened to invade their space for a 2 year period in my mid-teens along with my Dad.  They took me in and made me one of them.  I even started talking funny like them.

I spent 10 days there recently, and while some things have changed a lot, the character of the people hasn't.  We picked up like I had never left, even though it's been almost 10 years since I was there last.

Originally, I had planned to go down there in late summer.  But, my mind was changed and I went down specifically at first to attend Big Little Girl's university graduation.  I was humbled to be invited, and a little nervous.  After all, not only was I going home, with all the associated memories and feelings of the place, but I was also going to be introduced to her world.  I met her parents for the very first time, and even though I had no input into "picking" them when she was born, Big Little Girl's first mother did a bang up job with them.  They are truly wonderful people and exceptionally gracious.  I'm pretty sure their personal adoption plan back in the day never included meeting me at some point.  Her Dad and I kinda bonded as we cleaned out BLG's University apartment room.  Her Mom invited me for dinner at their house, which we did do, and it was fantastic.  And the house she grew up in...wow.  It was exceptionally relieving to me to see that she was provided with certain comforts and opportunities growing up that I would NEVER have been able to give her.

And of course, spending time with Big Little Girl was amazing.  We're closer now.  We speak the same language.  If I ever hear anybody start some sort of Nature vs. Nurture argument again, I'm gonna smack them.  I'm not sure if this is typical, but it appears to me biology provides so much of a person that even decades away from their biological roots, the similarities are startling.

But, there was also family.  In the weeks leading up to my trip, my sister and my mum were both diagnosed with breast cancer.  So, I wanted to be there for Big Little Girl as she graduated, but I NEEDED to be there for my mum and sister.

The Wednesday before I arrived, my sister had a double mastectomy.  By the time I got there, the doctors had determined that they had got all of the cancer and she was free to now start the reconstruction process.  She joked about finally getting the Double D's she always wanted, but was afraid that she would tip over all the time if she did.  My sister is incredibly strong and courageous.  And for a girl who swore up and down that she was never, ever having children, she's a pretty amazing Mom too.  Her husband is a pretty amazing guy too.  Always has been, and I can't believe they've been married just about 20 years now.  I can't believe it because I was there.

Mum is doing very well too.  I was lucky enough to spend 5 hours of my birthday in a hospital as she had an out-patient lumpectomy done.  I don't care.  She needed me, and I was happy to be there.  It would have been better if my brother hadn't locked the keys in the car when we were ready to take her home, but oh well.  Nothing a coat hanger can't fix.  We played Scrabble because it's "our thing" and I must be out of shape.  She tied me once and beat me the other time.  That never used to happen.  I guess I forgot how to cheat.  Sitting at the kitchen table sharing coffee, and simply talking.  Just like we used to do.  I didn't care that the house was a mess, or that the dogs were irritating beyond belief.  It was home.  Every now and then, I would catch a glimpse of Papa, her father, and I wished I could talk to him again.  But, he knew I was there, and it made him happy.  The last time I was down was for his funeral.

And yes, my brothers.  Great guys.  Polar opposite personalities, but down to earth.  I love them both too.  I'm so proud of my middle brother as he has found a way to have his own graphic design business on his terms in his own awkward artist kind of way.  My oldest brother may be the hardest working person I know, and he plays just as hard.  Everything is more fun when he's around.

But, the smells, the sounds, the feel of the place hasn't changed.  It's comfortable.  Within a day, I was driving  Mum around without directions because, well,  I just knew where I was going.

And there was the effortless weaving of both of those worlds, mine and Big Little Girl's into each other.  She found a new family, and my family found a new niece and granddaughter.  Both are grateful for that.  And I'm sorry they didn't know each other sooner.

Going home is like comfort food for the soul.

As I landed in Calgary on Sunday, a message popped up on my phone from Big Little Girl.

"I love you to the moon and back.. As much as the ocean loves the tide.  Thank you for everything, my Daddy.  Thank you for family."

I couldn't have said it any better.