My garden was laid complete for the cooler weather with mulch two weekends ago. My dad helped, along with my daughter. My heart was sad to say goodbye to the everyday watering and love given and received. I could feel also how tired I was. I looked at my husband and named my readiness to fly to San Antonio for Thanksgiving, to be away mostly from work but also a break from the stress of every day. It felt the closer time came to leave, the crazier work and life got. My reserve has become very short, also my motivation minimal.
A few days after laying my garden to rest and thinking about what wintering would look like this season, my dad went into the hospital with a small bowel obstruction, believed to be a twisted bowel initially. Reality of my dad, in terrible pain, unable to do anything, was eye opening for me. Sadly I’ve neglected showing up for my family in times of distress and illness, but this time I made an intentional effort to be there every night. I was used to night call and this was my opportunity to really show up in a way my family needed. It was beneficial, not only for watching over my dad, but also how well I navigated the hospital system and bureaucracy. My heart was full, though my mind anxious. The NGTube was a serious struggle for him but helped in his healing. He was discharged five days later.
The reality of my dad in the hospital opened my eyes to what we were going to do with the farm when he is unable to tend to it, and eventually when he dies. I know my brother (who shares the land with me) has most likely thought about it. I’ve talked to him and my sister in law in passing about possibly making the farm lucrative. People want our land. They have for years. Now, though, they are relentless in wanting to buy. We are wanting to hold onto it. Keep it. It’s now important to me.
I wanted to run away for years. I felt disconnected, inadequate, and a part from my family. Yes, I’m adopted. That was not all of why. I am different from my family. I have different political beliefs, I believe differently (though we are Christians), I identify differently, and I know I am much more liberal in my world views. Until I could be ok with myself, be unapologetically honest, love and accept all of me, I could not feel a part of. This has been on me. It’s been a hell of a journey. An evolving process. Once I became more secure in my being and personhood, I’ve been able to be more fully a part of my extended family.
As I reflect on this, I am so grateful to be able to live in my home that was originally my great grandfather’s. I am so grateful for the relationships that have deepened in a way I didn’t think could. I am so grateful to have land that I can dream about. I am so grateful to continuously discover who I am, what I love, deepen relationships with my husband and daughter, my parents, and my extended family, including in laws. Gratitude for a loved Thanksgiving this year.
The Journey Home 