When asked where we live, I joke that my husband & I live in a halfway house. We are renting a place located half way between our previous life and our next life. You see, we sold our home in Beaverdale, where we’ve lived most of the last 20 years. We are building a new home in the country but it’s not finished. So, we live halfway between.
The opportunity to buy land in the country was unexpected. And, more unexpected was that we wanted to buy the land and live there. We had decided the house in Beaverdale was the last time we would move. And, the land was the “farm” my family bought and moved to the summer of 1973 when I was 10 years old.
An unexpected turn in my childhood, moving from the suburbs to the country. I threatened to run away when my parents made me move to the farm, away from all my friends. We moved anyway. The farm came to represent turbulence and change, the unexpected. I tried to go there as seldom as possible after my parents split up and mom moved back to the area we’d lived pre-farm.
So, I was surprised that I wanted to buy it when Dad passed away. But, perhaps the thing you have expected while reading this, I learned the land on which that farm sits is not the origin of the turbulence and pain. I love the land. And, I am half way home.