Roots

Over Easter I purchased two self-starter herb kits. I'm not entirely sure what possessed me to do it. Possibly it was the discovery of how delicious fresh herbs are thanks to our Hello Fresh boxes (confession- I never actually used herbs before, so probably any seasoning would have shocked me into doing something different with my cooking). Possibly it was the faint blooms of spring punctuating the Aberdeen landscape inspired me to try and grow something. More than likely it just seemed like a cheap and fun project to undertake.

Whatever the reason, I've been trying to raise a parsley and basil plant for about a month now. I've learned that I am not good at raising plants, the rose plant I had at Pope John is the major exception. My plants were sufficiently dead until Jack stepped in and took over watering them. Turns out that herbs need a lot more water than I had expected. My little, sad plants are now quite full and about to outgrow the planters they came in.

Which is leading me to a problem- transplanting them into bigger, more permanent homes. I know it's only a matter of time before they need to be in a place where their roots can grow more deeply, but I'm scared of trying to transplant them. I'm worried about damaging the roots that have already started- of the physical disruption of the move.

As I was contemplating the immanent move of my herbs, I started thinking about their eventual need to move homes as well. We are just about at the two month mark of our return to Houston. My herbs can't travel with me across the Atlantic. They'll have to move to a new home as well.

And in the midst of my fears of disrupting these fragile leaves, I realized how many of my own fears about moving I was imposing on them (I blame Pixar for my overburdened conscience when it comes to imposing human emotions on non-animals).

Over the past 12 years, I've moved multiple times. Not as many times as other people I know- and honestly, while the physical act of packing and moving isn't exactly "fun," these past few moves have cemented how much I dislike the process for emotional reasons. Which is particularly odd given that I've largely been the impetus for these moves. I've loved the places I've moved to and the reasons I've moved. There has been a sense of call to both Waco and Aberdeen. I wouldn't trade these experiences and I don't regret either. But my sense of adventure is growing into a desire for home as I've gotten older.

These final months that we're in Aberdeen, however, have made me the most acutely aware of the profound sadness there is in moving, even moving home. Like my plants, we've just started planting roots here. Will those roots and relationships be strong enough to withstand the incredible distance that is about to test them?

Are the roots we left in Houston strong enough for us to grow back into?

In the past two years, Jack and I have come home a few times and those trips have been wonderful. We've spent time with our family and friends. But those trips have been so short. It's easy to stay connected when you're in a flurry of lunch and dinner dates. In that time I've realized, though, how much has changed within those groups. New people have come and old people have gone. It's easy to see how we still connect to individuals, but will we still find our place in those groups?

I'm scared of leaving these fragile, new roots and returning to find that the old roots have died. I'm not particularly worried about replanting ourselves in our family systems. Blood is, as cliche as this is, thicker than water. I know how excited they are to have us back and how excited we are to be back near them. Family isn't particularly bound by location. And I'm not worried that we're going to pop back into Houston and suddenly be friendless- I don't believe that the roots we planted were shallow enough to leave us without a social network. I'm just in a place of transplantation. It's almost time to pull up these roots for something more permanent, I just wish I knew with more certainty where we'll fit in the garden.

At the same time, I'm really excited about coming home. The last two months are a weird period between being super excited about the next chapter and feeling the current one closing. I've loved the current chapter of our life- living in a new country, traveling, the people we've become friends with, haggis... and I'm ready to be home. It's an emotional rollercoaster.