It’s always rough for me when my mom has to go back to Georgia after visiting us here in Texas. Last week, she was kind enough to supervise my rowdy crew while I was at the CNMC, which I greatly appreciated – but I didn’t get to spend much time with her myself before she had to fly home. It takes a few days for me to get back to feeling normal whenever she leaves. I have a hard time focusing on my day-to-day stuff because her being here reminds me of how tough it is for me to be this far from home.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy where we live; there’s lots to recommend this area (suburbs of Houston) – very diverse city, amazing cultural offerings we never take advantage of, best parish ever, many supportive friends and family. I just wish that a few states in between here and Georgia could be relocated to another region of the country so that I’d be a day’s drive from my mom. Not too much to ask, in the grand scheme of things.
I’ve gotten quite good at displacement, or so I tell myself. “I’m just not going to focus on that.” Stressors pile up, but I just put them out of my mind. Channel that worry into productivity. I used to be quite terrible about fixating on a situation and letting it take over my entire worldview, but now – I just don’t even think about it.
Except, of course, it’s still THERE. Still tromping around in the back rooms of my mind, turning over file cabinets and knocking over vases.
I say that I’m “giving it to God,” these things beyond my control, but the truth is I absolutely have not done that, nor do I know how.
Here’s this, from Jeremiah, in today’s Office of Readings:
The Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, says this to all the exiles deported from Jerusalem to Babylon, “Build houses, settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce; take wives and have sons and daughters; choose wives for your sons, find husbands for your daughters so that these can bear sons and daughters in their turn; you must increase there and not decrease. Work for the good of the country to which I have exiled you; pray to the Lord on its behalf, since on its welfare yours depends. For the Lord says this: Only when the seventy years granted to Babylon are over, will I visit you and fulfil my promise in your favour by bringing you back to this place. I know the plans I have in mind for you – it is the Lord who speaks – plans for peace, not disaster, reserving a future full of hope for you. Then when you call to me, and come to plead with me, I will listen to you. When you seek me you shall find me, when you seek me with all your heart; I will let you find me – it is the Lord who speaks. I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have dispersed you – it is the Lord who speaks. I will bring you back to the place from which I exiled you.
I know it’s the First Worldyest of problems to say “I live so far from my mom that she can only fly in a few times during the year” but it’s just really getting to me right now, combined with some other stuff, and this really spoke to my heart today.
There’s always going to be exile, in this lifetime. I get that. It’s very much what draws me to Walker Percy – whose widow, Mary Townsend Percy, died today.
And what we’re supposed to do, apparently, is not pretend the exile isn’t happening. Instead, we are to put down roots. Do you know how much I emote over my little herb garden, my decision to plant something as a sign of “okay, we’re going to live here for a while?” I think of myself as an adventurous soul but I really feel like our repeated moves, job changes, life changes over the past few years are wearing on me. It’s an exile, of sorts, and no, I don’t mean “I’m exiled to Texas” because I’m truly grateful for the opportunities and friends and queso.
Just, this “it’s not always going to be this hard” – I needed to hear that today.
I can relate. My exodus to Texas from Louisiana happened in 2005 due to Hurricane Katrina. “when you seek me with all your heart; I will let you find me” Beautiful-and I cannot imagine my life elsewhere at this time. Watch for St John Chrysostum’s words on Sep 13. +++
Needed this today, too. Thank you
I’m sorry you’re struggling. I will pray for you. I just know that I’m glad you’re here, close by. I imagine you, just a short highway stretch away from me, WordPress-ing and child-rearing along and I don’t fee so alone! Also, I’ve found that when I’m lonely, for whatever reason, I come to appreciate my family more.
Thanks for sharing Dorian~
I know exactly how you feel for obvious reasons~ I too have been feeling sorry for myself this past week~ I think the reality of “I live on the Jersey shore” finally settled in. I really miss Texas so do the children! It’s hard when family is not closer, mine is so spread out from MI, IN, WI, FL and TX. Then we are getting ready for a deployment so I will be single parenting it, so excited~ um , not really. BUt its good to know I am not alone, in this crazy world I live in. So anyway, I know ramble on, but thanks for your post from Jeremiah, keeps me trudging on!
Something about Texas and exile… Even living much closer to my family than I used to, I still feel a sense of exile, though not as strongly. Still, now that we’ve moved much closer to where we want to be long-term, I do feel the tug of those roots we put down in Texas, and I realize that the strong ties we forged there mean that we did sink some pretty deep roots. It seems like I’ve left a little piece of my heart everywhere I’ve lived. Except California. I don’t ever really miss that.
Man… now I miss my mom, but then I’m trying to get my folks to join me down here in exile. Come on in, the water is… well, brackish.
I’m having a great time living in Houston with my wonderful wife and her big, fun family, but never in a thousand years did I think I would end up in Texas, about to have a little sixth-generation Texan baby. Hard for a native Oklahoman, expatriate Razorback to get his mind around. I wasn’t raised on Texas culture. Like the old ads used to say, it really is kind of a whole other country down here.
Oh, goodness, this made me so sad, but the scripture you quote is hugely comforting. You are putting down roots, physical and metaphorical, and it will definitely get better. There’s queso, right?
I’ve been on both sides of this equation: I moved 1000 miles from my parents, and now I have one daughter 1000 miles from me and the other is… 5000 miles. I’m trying to convince myself that, since she’s living in a Third World country, my inability to see her unless one of us flies a long overnight flight (too many countries in between to drive) it’s not really a First World Problem. Surely we can average things so we end up with at most a Second World Problem.
Dorian, nutty as it may sound, I envy you. Not the exile and the pain of missing your mom – but having a mom you miss like that. May God bless and strengthen you through your suffering. And may you have lots of Skype to console you.
I’ve lived my entire married life in exile from my family. It felt so odd when we were married to have to fly my family to this place where I’d only begun to put down roots. I’ve been blessed that my parents come up for extended stays with the birth of each child and usually once or twice a year when we don’t have a new baby. But it is an exile, as much as I have come to love Massachusetts and my in-laws. (Though I’m enough of an introvert that my first reaction when my parents leave is a huge sigh of relief. Partly that’s not having a guest room. Having your one living space become a bedroom while your parents sleep on the couch is a pretty big loss of freedom. I don’t begrudge it and I love to have them but there it is. A sigh of relief and a cleaning spree.)
We have lived over 100 miles from my parents for the past 21 years. It might as well be an eternity now that driving long distances (more than 30 minutes) is difficult for me due to health issues. We love where we live–except for the “far from family” part. And yes, sometimes it sure does feel like exile. I do what you do–try to sublimate it into working harder or convince myself that I’m offering it up, but it’s still tough. Good thing we have free long-distance calling now.
Barb – I was just thinking about this yesterday, the fact that now I just call whoever I want on my cell phone and don’t start conversations with “do you want me to call you back on my cell phone so that it’s not long-distance for you?”