It might be 10, 11, 12 months before we see American soil again. Before we step foot inside a Target (gasp!) or drive thru a Wendy’s. Our ex-pat training wheels are about to come off, and we will be left wobbling back to life in Aberdeen.
Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but I find myself severely emotional when I think about getting on that plane today. Like this impending sense of doom that makes me want to grab my luggage and run the other way. I’m trying to focus on seeing my sweet puppies, sharing the news of our baby boy with friends, and getting together with the girls to watch The Bachelorette.
I’m trying to remind myself that I love Aberdeen. That it suits us better than Houston ever did. That we have a great support system. That we are surrounded by indescribable beauty. That it is home. Home. Never has the word seemed more elusive.
I love our lives in Aberdeen, but I come to Louisiana, surrounded by familiar faces, accents, and food, and I think: “This fits too.”
Home has ceased to be a geographical place. Instead, it’s a constantly moving target, embodied by my husband, my pups, and my future son(!).
It’s sad sometimes, but we have to take personal responsibility that this is a path we chose. Adventures are exciting, but they are also scary and filled with uncertainty. This is just one of those scary and uncertain times, but I think it would feel that way anywhere.
So Au Revoir, Louisiana. Next time we see you, our family will be +1.
"If you never leave home, never let go, you'll never make it to the great uknown."- needtobreathe