Yesterday, John was interviewed and featured on a local AM radio station. He's a new physician in the area, and Chelsea (the town where he works) wants to get the word out that he's here and seeing patients. In fact, a woman from the Chelsea Chamber of Commerce was on the radio also, singing John's praises and reminding the town itself how much he is needed.
The woman who interviewed John actually owns the radio station and has obviously lived in the greater Ann Arbor area for her entire life. She started the show by introducing John as someone who has "come home". Not only did she explain that he was an Ypsi High graduate (class of '84), but I got a shout out as a Pioneer graduate (class of '88), and even more, she allowed him to detail how he ended up coming back to Michigan.
It was crazy, hearing, as John put it, the circuitous route that brought us home to the Mitten. He did a great job, being succinct in how he explained it, and yet it emphasized how long and how many years we spent away. Eventually. Lucy Ann Lance asked him how it felt to be home. He said that just yesterday, he and I had been at a concert in Hill Auditorium, watching our son sing with the University of Michigan University Chorus, and I had turned to John and told him how good it felt to be back.
And it does. I haven't really allowed myself to be happy here, because the dark clouds of worry and doubt about our house not selling in PA color every feeling I have. However, with foreclosure proceedings now in effect, and knowing that we can't do anything else but watch our credit go down the drain, I can focus more on being in the moment here in Michigan.
And we love it here. There is a happiness and an ease in it all. We already know our way around. We spend a lot of evenings out, doing things and having fun.
Just this past weekend, we went to the Chelsea live nativity show, sat on hay bales and sang carols with the community choir. We then walked around Chelsea, doing some window shopping and just being with "our people". The next day, we saw The Messiah, performed at Hill, and it was all I needed to be reminded of the beauty of the season. The next day (Sunday), we spent the entire day helping with our ward's creche exhibit, me playing the organ and piano and conducting the Primary kids during their musical program, and John "floating" and talking to anyone and everyone for six hours straight. At the end of the night, Mark and I closed out the exhibit with an hour of live horn and piano Christmas music.
We're going to a hockey game tomorrow night (Michigan vs. Michigan State), and we're headed into Detroit to see Brian Regan on Saturday. We go to the temple at least once a month (if not more), and when the kids fly in, it's a short drive to the airport.
Our home is perched on a hill with the loveliest view over our pond/small lake, and we actually like hearing the daily train, whistling hello on the nearby tracks.
Yes, our house is old, and we are already making a list of things we need to repair and replace, but it's starting to feel like home. I've always kind of felt like "home" is defined by the beautiful things in it, but having made memories over this past Fall (Baby's birthday, Thanksgiving, and setting up the Christmas tree), I realize that home is really where we create memories. I can look around now and think of Baby riding in her cozy coupe, or picture Ethan sitting in front of the picture window reading. I look forward to making more memories here so that the house begins to belong to us even more.
Yes, we've come home, and I'm hoping this is the last stop on the route.
The woman who interviewed John actually owns the radio station and has obviously lived in the greater Ann Arbor area for her entire life. She started the show by introducing John as someone who has "come home". Not only did she explain that he was an Ypsi High graduate (class of '84), but I got a shout out as a Pioneer graduate (class of '88), and even more, she allowed him to detail how he ended up coming back to Michigan.
It was crazy, hearing, as John put it, the circuitous route that brought us home to the Mitten. He did a great job, being succinct in how he explained it, and yet it emphasized how long and how many years we spent away. Eventually. Lucy Ann Lance asked him how it felt to be home. He said that just yesterday, he and I had been at a concert in Hill Auditorium, watching our son sing with the University of Michigan University Chorus, and I had turned to John and told him how good it felt to be back.
And it does. I haven't really allowed myself to be happy here, because the dark clouds of worry and doubt about our house not selling in PA color every feeling I have. However, with foreclosure proceedings now in effect, and knowing that we can't do anything else but watch our credit go down the drain, I can focus more on being in the moment here in Michigan.
And we love it here. There is a happiness and an ease in it all. We already know our way around. We spend a lot of evenings out, doing things and having fun.
Just this past weekend, we went to the Chelsea live nativity show, sat on hay bales and sang carols with the community choir. We then walked around Chelsea, doing some window shopping and just being with "our people". The next day, we saw The Messiah, performed at Hill, and it was all I needed to be reminded of the beauty of the season. The next day (Sunday), we spent the entire day helping with our ward's creche exhibit, me playing the organ and piano and conducting the Primary kids during their musical program, and John "floating" and talking to anyone and everyone for six hours straight. At the end of the night, Mark and I closed out the exhibit with an hour of live horn and piano Christmas music.
We're going to a hockey game tomorrow night (Michigan vs. Michigan State), and we're headed into Detroit to see Brian Regan on Saturday. We go to the temple at least once a month (if not more), and when the kids fly in, it's a short drive to the airport.
Our home is perched on a hill with the loveliest view over our pond/small lake, and we actually like hearing the daily train, whistling hello on the nearby tracks.
Yes, our house is old, and we are already making a list of things we need to repair and replace, but it's starting to feel like home. I've always kind of felt like "home" is defined by the beautiful things in it, but having made memories over this past Fall (Baby's birthday, Thanksgiving, and setting up the Christmas tree), I realize that home is really where we create memories. I can look around now and think of Baby riding in her cozy coupe, or picture Ethan sitting in front of the picture window reading. I look forward to making more memories here so that the house begins to belong to us even more.
Yes, we've come home, and I'm hoping this is the last stop on the route.
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