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home, home on the range?

if furlough has taught me anything, it has taught me that the word home is a very confusing word.

 

very.

 

it doesn’t help that we moved one week before we came to the states. i used to have a home, my apartment in botanica (an area of chisinau). it is the first place i called home after moving to moldova and although it had it quirks (and smells, ahem) i kind of miss it. but technically i have a home, my new apartment in centru (a different area of chisinau). and while i know it is my home, ok i think it is my home, it doesn’t exactly feel like my home. i think i remember my kitchen having dark burgundy tile…or was it red? the girls room was blue, although the girls never even slept in that room. i didn’t even finish unpacking and when i left, my mattress was still at the old apartment.

 

then there are my homes in the states. we have stayed part of the time with sarah, in my old home. it was the house i moved into with just one child and then i became a parent five more times in that house. i gave birth in that house. it is the only house (since being married) that i have celebrated more than one christmas in. and what about my childhood home? we have also been staying with my parents when we are in northern california and since this is the home i lived in from 1988 to college, it also holds a lot of the concept of home.

 

i have found myself using the word “home” haphazardly these past seven weeks. i don’t even know what i mean when i refer to home. at one point i said to someone, “yeah on friday we go home and then a week later we turn around and go back…home…uh…” i can’t figure out what i am suppose to call what.

 

in a way, maybe it makes sense. isn’t it true that wherever my husband and daughters are, that is my home. maybe my home is a suitcase, a car, an airplane and my pillow right now. in another way, maybe it just affirms that this is not our home and we aren’t home just yet (somehow i have this feeling like i just quoted a christian song).

 

or maybe it just proves that i am very, very confused.

 

either way, i will be 100% honest. i actually feel a little tearful. i don’t really know why. maybe there is a link to the wedding being over, my sissy on her honeymoon, the upcoming goodbyes looming ahead. or maybe i just need more sleep.

 

don’t get me wrong, this furlough has been uh-mayyyyyyy-zing. to the fourth degree, yes i just said quoted my junior high days. spending time with family has been special, fun, special and fun. being a part of my sissy’s wedding was a dream. i guess part of being a missionary is learning to adapt, say see you soon and keep on going.

 

whew.

Marie Klein Burtt

About Marie Klein Burtt

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