THE ROAD LESS TRAVELLED

So today, the car that was to take me to the airport arrived early.  I was just getting ready to bid the home that has held and soothed my soul and spirit for the past 34 years farewell.  It has been sold.  I will never be back.  I told the driver that I wanted to take one last look and walked back into the house and burst into tears.   Much to my surprise.  I thought I was ready to leave.  And I am.  But I realized in that moment that being ready to move on in my life, to leave what I no longer need, doesn’t mean that I won’t miss it.  I have missed East Africa for these many years I have been in Vermont.  And so, on the eve of returning  to my beloved East Africa, I understand that I will still be missing something, and that I will always be missing something even as I step forward into new directions of my own choosing.  I am an integration of all my past experiences, each one touches me, and leaves an indelible mark upon the me as I become awake each day into a new future.  I will always be looking back as I look forward.

But here in this moment, before I begin to blog about where I am going, I would like to take a moment to thank your for having given me such a beautiful space in which to live and grow for so many years.  You will always live in my mind, always be my home, no matter who owns you, no matter where I go.  You have nourished me, my mother, my brother, and all of the tenants, vacationers, and patients who came through your doors over the years as you renewed your purpose over the years to meet the changing circumstances of my life.   And let us not forget our 40+ feline friends who were able to find safety and shelter from roaming the streets of Tokyo, Japan, San Francisco, CA, Bridgeport, CT,  Bloomington, IN, Madison, WI, Orlando, FL, as well as from our own forested neighborhood, when they came to live with us for the remainder of their days.   We thank you, one and all, for having loved us as you have.

Even now you are nourishing me:  Not only have you held me safely in your arms for 34 years, but  in leaving me, you are gifting me with sufficient resources to support me in my later years so that I am now free me  to give back to a part of the world that gave me so much in my youth.  You are, even now, protecting me.    Thank you dear home of my heart, thank you.