Thursday, September 9, 2010

On Missing


Not exactly a rant, but an expression.

Last night, Matt was watching some old home movies from 2007 with our daughters, and I walked through as they got to the part where my sister Rachel arrived at the Portland airport with little Bella from Brazil. I think Bella must have been about 10 months… anyway, one glance at that tv screen, and I start bawling. I mean, I THINK about Rachel, and her pregnant belly, and I start bawling. I see my sister-in-law post something totally harmless on FaceBook about her latest home schooling adventure, and I start crying. It is really ridiculous. I SWEAR, I am not depressed. I am busy, I am growing, I am being productive. But I HATE HATE HATE being away from the ones I love. This is NOT how it is supposed to be.

It has only been 9 months since I was with them, but still…

I think about how, 10 years ago, I would get so excited about meeting new people, going to new places. You know what? As much as I still love that, I DREAM of seeing OLD people, and going to OLD places. I want to wrap my heart in Oregon, in Seattle, in the Carolina’s, and wear them like a blanket until I don’t ache anymore. I want to soak in the familiar things until my mind stops rushing around, until my shoulders relax again.

I want to smell the pacific northwest, and get smoke in my eyes from a campfire while my little sisters make inside jokes I just don’t get!

China is going to be those things to my children, the familiar, the comforting, the expected. Home. The context for their memories of safety, and fun. It is actually very hard for me to accept that. I almost want them to feel as alien and alone as I do! Part of me WANTS them to miss the food, the smells, the culture of America the way I do! Isn’t that ridiculous?! Sometimes I am afraid of staying here, because it is hard for me to believe that they REALLY, TRULY, will be just fine here!

I miss you, dearest of friends, who have known me since before I knew who I was.

I miss you, mama, who always has a million things to do, but stops and listens to the same complaints and fears come out of my mouth that you had 25 years ago, when I was a child.

I miss you Papa, who knows how to have a conversation about anything, and still doesn’t mind holding me on your lap.

I miss you nieces, who smell so good, and make me read books, and put up with my Zoe’s bossy ways.

I miss you nephews, who know WAY more about stuff than I do, who have interesting explanations for everything, and are so different from the girls I am around every day!

I miss you my sisters, by marriage or birth, women and nearly women. I wish you were next door.

I miss you bro, and telling you how to live your life would be so much easier if you could just pull up our driveway on your bike, and have dinner with us on summer evenings.

And now, I am tired of crying. So I am going to go make some pizza, plan tomorrow, and do some Chinese homework. I’m glad I got that out J


6 comments:

Mandy Mucci said...

You are so strong. All the fears are valid. Keep pressing on the way you are.

mama said...

THIS made ME cry!! I love your heart, Hallie.

Heather Ziebart said...

Oh Hallie ... how valid is that longing for your daughters to miss the things you do. To have them call Oregon home ... yet, isnt it how it was for our moms? The place we called home was new to them at one point too. How I wish you were my neighbor, I even wish I were back sleeping on your couch, just to see you every day, to live life with you and journey with you. Wouldn't it be great if we could just combine all our worlds? And yet ... that is not for this world. In eternity we will, and that is what drives us to be far from each other now, that we need to be for Him, not us. I love you ... and I really like that you are writing again.

annie4jesus said...

Oh Sweet Hallie - this post made me cry as I was sitting at my desk at work.

I miss you, too Dear Hallie. Years ago before we were all married - one weekend we went to Newport beach in Oregon- you, Rachel, Brian and I. Feeling sand under our feet, touching sea anemones,building a fire to cook hot dogs and taking silly pictures.

Is it funny that I think of you when I listen to Shakira?

Samantha G said...

I can relate. Still, there'd be a HUGE GAPING hole in the community if you weren't there. I'm glad you came. :)

rosebark said...

I profoundly identify with you, even with your verbiage. I wanted nothing more than to be home, wrapped up in my giant, heavy bedspreads, and know I was safe in my familiar place with everyone close by.

It was one day at a time, one hour at a time, and a few very expensive phone calls in the middle of the night.

I love you -