I suppose you can. I mean, here we are. Home again.
But though I’m happy to be here, glad to be with family, and excited about our new house, coming home again entails so much more than I ever expected.
Part of the situation is, of course, that we are in a state of flux. Marcus isn’t home yet, we aren’t living in our house yet, and our things aren’t here yet. But all that aside, it’s amazing how hard it can be to move, even moving home, after three years somewhere.
I miss my friends in England, our house, our schedule and routine, everything. I miss my knitting group, grabbing the girls from school and heading to Anne’s for tea, and even knowing where to shop for the things I want and where they’ll be in the store.
Some of this is going to take time. And I know I can’t even really expect that clock to start ticking until Marcus is home and we’re moved in.
It’s so funny, because you get so much support when you move overseas–sponsors, meetings, support groups, newsletters…and even then it wasn’t always enough.
But when you move home, you’re coming home, and the support isn’t there. But it’s just as hard as the first move.
I know it will all fall into place, and that this was the right decision for me and for my family. But it’s still an adjustment. It’s still hard. And we’re still working at it…