I’ve mused on the difference between my spiritual home of Scotland and the home I make with my family.
I’ve discovered; by moving many, many miles away from home; that I take my home with me. That it isn’t contained within the four walls of our house, but is part of us.
I’ve realised that while I miss people, I don’t miss things.
This has been liberating.
Tomorrow, the sale of our house in Edinburgh goes through. I haven’t mentioned this before as I have a (life long!) fear of jinxing things. Who knows, publishing this a day before the sale completes may be jinx enough!
This was not a decision taken lightly, we will return to Scotland in the future; but it was time to let go of our house there to allow us more freedom here.
Before we left the UK I imagined that I would have a strong sentimental attachment to the house; it was our forever house. After we left I was surprised by how little attachment I had to it (apart from my brand new kitchen…!). When you have children you have to very quickly make a home wherever you are. You can’t afford to keep looking back.
I find myself feeling strangely unsettled today though. As if a connection, long held and important, is broken. Intellectually, I know it isn’t. Intellectually I know that this is the right thing for us, right now. We need more space, we need more flexibility. We need to move!
But, it is odd that our house will no longer be our house. It was an anchor to our previous life; a safety net when we first moved, a comfort to us (and the family we have left behind).
This decision reflects a change in our lives; an acceptance that we are happy where we are for the moment, a will to live in the moment, a realisation that we do not need a house in Scotland for Scotland to be our home. We are moving forward; and this is right and good.
However, despite the logic and the intellectual acceptance, for today I cannot shake this feeling of disconnection. And, perhaps I don’t want to, or need to. I am secure in our decision, and I am secure in our life as it is.
For today I will allow myself to remember our old home, to say goodbye to it. And, although writing that sentence brought unexpected tears to my eyes; it is a momentary thing, and tomorrow I will look forward: to a new home here, to the space we so desperately need, to being able to give the kids the garden and playroom and privacy that they so desperately need.
It is all good. I am good. My home is here, with my family.
[Update 9 April 2015: I’m linking this post up with the lovely Chantelle from Seychelles Mama, for her Expat Family linky. It’s now been almost a year since we sold our home in Edinburgh. We will be visiting Scotland over Spring Break and, as it always does, an impending visit to the UK gets me thinking about home and all that it means.]