Home on the Strange

After being in New York for over five weeks, I finally went home on Halloween.  The only trouble was, I had never been there before.  While I was away, my family had moved from Baltimore City to South Hero, Vermont, on the Lake Champlain Islands to stay with my wife’s sister.  They had just bought a new place with a small apartment on the side, so it worked out perfectly.  I helped pack, I helped load the truck, but I had never actually been to the new place, so it was a little odd.

I flew into Burlington, which I had not flown into in probably ten years.  If I flew to Vermont from Baltimore, I took Southwest into Albany and someone picked me up, but usually we just drove.  Jet Blue, however, does offer cheap tickets from JFK to Burlington, so I arrived in an airport that looked nothing like it did ten years ago.  They had built a new terminal, everything had been renovated, and it didn’t feel the same to me.  Luckily my family was there to greet me, and that felt great.

We drove through South Burlington, where I grew up, and much of it was still familiar.  We stopped at Zachary’s for pizza, and suddenly I felt like I belonged.  This was where I was from.  This town had a feeling of home in it somewhere.  But then we got back on the road and started driving north.  Just over twenty miles up and across the land bridge we came to our new house.

It was small.  Much smaller than I had originally envisioned.  Of course it was only temporary until we could find our own place, but for now the walls were lined with piles of boxes, some half-opened and rooted through, some tipped over.  There was no place to put anything, so it was all out.  And this was only half our stuff!  The other half had been moved to my sister’s basement for storage.  I did not recognize this place.  I recognized the TV, and shelves of DVDs.  I recognized our dishes and our couch.  Yes, there were things here that I knew, but, like a dream, a little off, and out of place.

As I settled in with my family, I came to realize that not only was the place different, but along with change of location came change of routine.  The daily habits were slightly different.  I felt lost and confused.  None of these new things were bad, the house suited our needs very well, and the routines suited the house, it was just that I hadn’t been there to help form them.  It was all foreign to me.  I felt like a stranger in my own home.

At this point I began to wonder why I ever thought being an opera singer was such a great idea.  I was missing things!  Edward can get up on all fours now!  Soon he will be crawling.  Ruby drew all over her wall in crayon!  I didn’t get to yell at her.  Suddenly the glamorous life of a traveling musician didn’t seem so appealing to me.  I wanted to stay with my family.

Days progressed and I gradually became more comfortable in the new environment, as one is wont to do.  On Tuesday, we all drove into town to go to Costco.  We picked up pictures from the photo counter, we looked at all the Christmas toys that are already on display, we ate pizza and sausages, and we generally had a fun time.  And it felt more like home at Costco than it had felt anywhere else that trip.  We all slipped right back into our old ways of being, having cheap lunch at Costco.  We might as well have been in Baltimore again.  It was wonderful.

So what do I take away from all this?  Am I just a city person now, uncomfortable out in the country and only truly happy at giant warehouse locations?  Do I just need more time to adjust?  Should I get rid of most of my stuff?  Probably.  But the worst part about it was, just when I was starting to feel at home in my new home, I got on another plane headed back to New York.