Home is where you make it

Day 13 as a member of the new club – Hyster-sisters.   Day 13 of being ‘incarcerated’ in my own home, shuffling from room to room, measuring my progress against how long it takes me to get up the stairs (have I stopped being judgemental about those chair lift ads), choosing a different place to sit and rest for the hundredth time.   The boredom is not something I bargained for.  I know I should be incredibly grateful – the operation was a success, it’s behind me, I have low levels of pain (although I am not sure how much the little blue opiate pills are contributing to this?), I have great help around the house, a stack of books and DVDs.  But what to do.   It’s all about the action, the next job, making time count by evidence of what you’ve done.  The luxury of having some time to read and rest seems instead criminal.   Unfortunately this way of thinking is a throw back to an upbringing where there was always something that could be found to do – that and the Type A personality.   Do you think I could subscribe to being a Type B for say, the next two weeks?   It definitely has to be about how you look at this – opportunity or loss.
While I’m trying to figure this out I have decided to try blogging so that the time in captivity would not seem like such a ‘waste’ and I would have a goal each week.  The challenge….what to write.   So let’s start with some observations.

My family and I moved to Canada 3 years ago.   It’s been tough but we are getting there and in spite of missing family and friends, we have mustered on and made new friends and a new life.   This time stuck inside, however, has made me reflect on ‘home’ more than ever – what I probably wouldn’t allow myself indulge in (thoughts of home) when I was able to keep myself busy.  I think also, the nature of going into hospital, being ‘sick’, brings you back to other such times and who cared for you and what helped you through the process.   Things are done differently in different countries.   At home, people would not ring (call) in advance of arriving at your door, but would be there with an Irish Stew, or scones hot out of the oven, or an apple tart (a slice to go with your cup of tea), pushy, telling you what to do (get back into bed), bringing you up to date with all the news.   There is a course an element of this missing, being so far away from home (5000kms).   My new friends have been wonderful, with many offers of help, grocery shopping being done and lunches arriving at my door.

The hubbie and kids went to the CNE a few days ago – longing to get out of the house those last few days before going back to school having ‘nursed’ mum so well for the previous few (precious) days.   It was their first time there.   They had a ball (great time!).   When they eventually came home my daughter was all excited to show me the treat they had bought me.   (I imagined all sorts – new nail varnish, a T-shirt with something funny written on it, the infamous cronut burger perhaps?).   Wrong.   She stood in front of me, beaming, with a packet of Rich Tea biscuits in her hand.  Not any packet of Rich Tea.   McVities Rich Tea – the REAL ones.  “Look at what we found” she exclaimed.   I almost cried.   We had been talking about the things that you associate with being sick when younger (fizzy orange lucozade, green grapes) and I had said that I had loved rich tea biscuits with butter when sick – not fattening, not heavy on the stomach, dunkable!, just perfect – comfort food.   That was all it took.   Those biscuits brought some of the comfort I was yearning.   So, together with my family, and the wonderful new friends, and my little bit of comfort, of home I think I can now say that……..Home is …… where the tea and biscuits are, the family and buddies …. home is where you make it.

If you’re finding it hard, be good to yourself.   Surround yourself with good people, positive experiences and some little comforts.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s