Sunday, October 16, 2005

home, part 1

I'm very jealous of my husband. His parents are married and have been for his whole life. To each other! They moved a couple times when he was little, but they've been in the same house for at least 25 years. When he thinks of home, his images are very clear. His world is very safe and secure. Although he and his siblings have mostly moved on in life, nothing major has changed at all. He has a home.

To be clear, I know that my home is with my husband and that his is with me. I guess what I'm talking about is more than I can find the right word for. It's a feeling.

My mom divorced my bio father (with exceptionally good reasons) early in my life. I wish I never knew him.

As a divorced kid, I never felt like I had a home. There was mom's house and dad's house, complete with stepparents, but neither was really my house. We moved a lot. I've had lots and lots of houses (the average American makes 11 moves in his lifetime. I'm already above average!) My sense of "home" has always been with my mom, regardless of the structure she lived in.

She remarried when I was a preteen, and although I was a snot to him at first, I too fell in love with my stepdad (not that kind of love, pervs.) He was an awesome guy. He's a one of a kind, quirky, interesting, and he became my dad. He would talk to me like an adult and ask me what I thought about things and really listen to me. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding. Sometimes my mom will tell me that something I do or say is just like him. No genetic contribution necessary.

It really hurt me when I found out they were getting divorced. Even though I was already married myself, I felt like my world was being ripped apart and nothing was stable or sure. I felt betrayed (they waited through a couple important events in my life to tell me) and lost. It's tough when you're an adult and your parents get divorced.

Mom moved after the divorce (after my dad moved out,) and as I became familiar with her new house (and seeing her in it) I became more secure. I felt better, like she was going to be ok, and so was I. I don't get to see her as often as I'd like, but I eventually adjusted.

Now, my mom is getting remarried. And I don't like it. I feel like a selfish baby, but I just don't like it. I absolutely want her to be happy. It has nothing to do with the guy (although he has a kid, and I feel a little bit like she's getting herself a new family while I live away.) He sounds like a nice enough guy, his family likes my mom (well, who wouldn't? She's wonderful!) and my grandparents like him (you gotta convince grandpa because he's very protective of his girls.)

I feel like my home is being taken away. And no one understands. It could be my fault; maybe I just suck at explaining this, but it feels very lonely.

3 comments:

thalia said...

I felt that way when my parents separated and sold our house, the house I grew up in. I was living 1000s of miles away, on a different continent, but it felt like i no longer had a home. I'm sorry.

I think in time it will fade, but it will still be something you hanker for. I can't go back to our old neighbourhood - still, 8 years later.

twirl said...

Thank you. It means a lot to have someone else say, "I felt like that too."

April said...

I've lived in probably twenty or so places growing up. We were always moving it seemed, so when Michael and I spent three years in the same house when we got married, I felt almost awkward about it.

I sometimes drive by the old places I've lived when I'm back "home" and think about my life at the point we lived there.

I have a hard time thinking long term because of it - except - as you remind me - Michael is my "home."

Bah.. sorry for hogging the comments, what I really meant to do was just *nod* and say yep... I understand.