April 9, 2022 8:33am
Doe Bay Resort, Padma Cabin
Today, I miss my children
For the first time
in a long time
It probably makes me some other kind of mother
but I have spent a total of 4 solid weeks
away from my children this year –
3 weeks in Mexico with a man I had known for 6 weeks prior to the trip
and a week on an island in Washington state that I had to take a ferry to reach
I haven’t been homesick in years
But then,
I guess you have to leave
to miss the place you’re in
In Mexico, distracted and delighted by the combination of sun, mezcal and hormones
I rarely missed my home
the farmland I love so dearly
the ancient Victorian lady where I birthed both of my children
the darling souls entrusted to Dan and I to guide
I thought of them regularly –
got several souvenirs and chose shells on the beach for each of them
but I didn’t really miss them
or wish to be home really at all.
When the man I was in Mexico with got homesick for the pine trees of Oregon
I think I laughed
How is that possible, I thought
Look at the cactus
Look at your blue eyes
shining at me brighter than the bluest sky I ever laid under
Look at me
Look at us
We are alive here in this desert
Bodies and salt and sweat
This is all I ever want to be
Although I knew it would soon be coming to an end
On the voyage north to Portland
Soon after we crossed the border,
a melancholy set in
nestled deep down in my gut
I didn’t want to go home
I love my children
so fucking much
But going home to them
and to the rainy northwest skies
and the farm I take so much pride in
felt like a death sentence.
I’m sorry that I’m being weird,
I told him at dinner that night.
I feel really weird.
He said he hadn’t noticed and
it felt like that might be a red flag
because are you paying attention
to anything but yourself?
I felt so sad to come home
and fell into a deep depression
My world is in pieces –
sorting out things like
who will live where
and have the kids when
and be responsible for what
simultaneously colliding with
interviewing teenagers for jobs
at the farm
overwhelmed the shit out of me.
Grateful to escape again after two weeks
I drove as far north as I could
and after seven hours of waiting in line
drove my car onto a boat
and then and island
and a windy 25 mph road
with several one-way sections
and I arrived on the shores of Doe Bay
where my alone-ness feels familiar
and not as sad and scary.
I’ve been here alone for many days now
four nights of going to sleep alone
four mornings of waking up alone
and I’m finding that although
sadness followed me here
and rolls over my body
like the slow waves lapping the shores of Otter Cove
the alone-ness itself doesn’t feel sad
and the self I have discovered again
is one that I thought I had lost many years ago.
She is different now, of course,
due to the passage of time
but deep within me,
I have unearthed a me that feels
creative and brave and
tender and loving and
angry and hopeful
and I think I’m ready to bring her home with me
and honor her presence
in my daily life.
I’ve been practicing
allowing myself to feel
instead of distracting myself from my feelings
and writing about it as much as possible.
Thoughts of my children are bringing me
feelings of happiness and clarity
and longing
not dread and sadness
and overwhelm.
So, maybe I’m some other kind of mother –
I would never leave my kids for that long,
you tell me and each other –
or maybe I’m just like you:
A person in the world who is
doing the best that they can
to figure out what their
needs/wants/desires/dreams
look like
and how to get there
without harming anyone
in the process.
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