Monday, August 13, 2012

This Must be the Place

   I lie on my bed listening to the winter rain pour down upon the tin roof of our whare, house, and find myself drifting into that strange dreamy frame of mind between sleep and being awake where the subconscious runs to her own musings. I could be in a mountain hut in the Ruahine thinking I should stir up the wood stove and put the billy on for a cup of tea. I could be in Wisconsin in the midst of a late afternoon summer storm, though the lack of loud thunder and flashes of lightening make that less of a reality. Or I could find myself right here, under our new roof buckled in tight and dry, the wood fire quietly warming us. It is not an unpleasant sensation to lie here between these different worlds. It seems I walk between them anyway.

How quickly time passes! Even though I was aware and trying to be deep in the moments it seems a bit bizarre to be back here sifting through the recollections and memories already. And of course Tara and Charlie have their own such places to sort through. For Charlie far less problematic I suspect, his very visceral, simpler world will allow him to hop back into his life here with far more ease than Tara or I. Tara and I suspect will have a far more complicated time digesting our experiences, our expectations, our realities. Interesting conservations lie ahead in the mist.                                                             


I honestly feel I have to let so many thoughts stew in the cauldron inside me before attempting to articulate them, or even what they REALLY mean. Having lived in another country now for over two decades I am not sure if it is my former home or myself which has changed the most. It was very important for me to see people and place my hands upon them, my family, friends, and a few special peeps in particular. I had very few boxes to tick, but the ones I did went back a long ways and reach way deep inside my soul. It has always been difficult for me to reconcile the past with the present, and I am not quite ready to tackle that yet. And so what may now seem unfulfilled or unsatisfying may eventually prove to be the sweetest encounters of all. Especially if the appreciation works both ways. Those answers most likely lie in front my fire talking it through with Tara, and some as well lie within me alone. In due time I will need to shoulder a pack and head into the Ruahine and talk to the mountains as well.

                                    My nephew Ben, two weeks younger than my own son Taylor. In ways I enjoyed his presence most of all. I love to see his smile. It gives me hope for my own boy, and appreciation of this one.

In the meantime I just wanted to report we are home safely and adjusting to going from holiday mode to the other mode of day to day life. It is good to be back in our little whare and our wood fire. Thank you so much to those who read here for tuning in and reading my ramblings. Kia ora as well to all those whom I saw and shared with in Wisconsin, and to those I did not I appreciate the thought was there and may you be well. Kia ora most of all to my family, my mom, my  sister Kathy (Kia kaha big sister), all my nieces and nephews, and mostly to my little sister Trish and her husband Steve for putting us up, and putting up with us for a month. Kia kaha Little Sister. I am always with you.

     The final hug with my mom. Kia ora Trish for observing this moment with dignity and allowing us a bit of privacy. "Listen dear mother I'll miss you the most......" - Jeff Tweedy

Kia ora and Aroha,


Anonymous said...

Robb...such a beautiful post. My heart hurts...but it's a good know?

troutbirder said...

We can always count on our moms...:)

lph said...

"This Must Be the Place" ... What a thoughtful title for such an existential post. Isn't "this" the only place for us. The only place we can trust! So hard to be so far away from those we love ... and yet with you and Tara (and whether they know it or not, even your boys) it is the only way it can be. And the beauty -- from where I observe -- is that you belong in both places.

Enjoyed seeing you in Madison Robb. I was glad we could share a couple of beers together. My social little Chloe however is deeply distressed that she didn't get to meet Charlie! (at least she was for a few moments). Maybe next time.

And how beautiful to end with a little Golden Smog.

And a hug for your mom")

Ruahines said...

Kia ora LC - I'm feeling ya. I appreciate more than you know you're understanding that. Kia kaha e hoa.

Ruahines said...

Kia ora TB,
I tried to hug as often as I could. Not sure I tried hard enough but got quite a few in. Cheers e hoa.

Anonymous said...


When I listen
When I listen to the song;
Well it feels, feels so free
And you tell me
You will come and go with me,
When you hear the call for home.

As we do.

We had some fine, memorable moments that I will cherish always. I thank both you and Tara for loving on Bear as you did and bringing forh that beautiful smile of his. Your presence changed something for both of us and I pray the same for you and Taylor. We sat on the veranda last night and had a quiet conversation (bit of an oxymoron, I know) but it was what it was. We spoke of you all with faint smiles as we were both in our own memories as well and didn't need to say much. I realized, after he left and in my own contemplation, that Bear found a missing link in all of you being here; family. True family. And that brought another faint smile to my face as I lifted my bolly to send a skol. I love you and thank you for that. See you soon......
Beautiful Vision

Marja said...

Beautiful post and I recognise so many of it. I have been back now from Holland for about 5 weeks and it seems ages ago. I felt close and enstranged at the same time.
I do know that I definetely belong in NZ as I love it so much, but it is great to be able to go back home.

Ruahines said...

Kia ora LPH,
Cheers e hoa! One fine memory is the all too short visit to Madison. Though I got to see you twice and meet your lovely wife and family, it sort of leaves me wishing for more - in a good way. I am sure Charlie would have enjoyed meeting Chloe as well, or as much as 9 year old boy can. Chloe certainly had an exhuberance that I suspect would cut right thru the boy-girl thing. Tara very much enjoyed meeting her as well. I observed a few cool moments of them from far away with my camera, and shall have to email them to you.
In ways Larry it felt like we should have been discussing where we were going to play hoops the next day. A blink of an eye e hoa.

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Marja,
I feel like I have known you for a long time, and certainly do as one of my oldest blogging friends. Many come and go, but we are still here, frequently or infrequently does not matter. I feel like I know you as well as a kindred soul, having two places. That makes me smile. Kia kaha e hoa.

Ruahines said...

Kia ora Beautiful Vision,
My little sister. I was never there for Ben physically, but I have always loved him as part of you each and every day. So to get to have that experience was so cool and enriching for me. Trying to be cool and casual and not scare him off, mixed in with wanting to give him 19 years worth of cuddles he never had from his uncle. I heard a lot of stories, viewpoints, ect. To see for myself lets me feel a lightness for you, a burden you can never let go indeed, but at least bear the weight. Ben gave me some light as well, for my own boy. It ain't feeling no lighter yet, but at least hope in ways that one day will not feel so heavy. Bear is always Haere mai (Welcome) here in our whare. Our home is his home.
And you my darling little baby sister. I loved your hospitality, your acceptance, your aroha for me. You accept who I am and what I am becoming unreservedly. I adore you for that. We are the same in some ways, and others have changed greatly - not so much. I wish you Peace Trish. Calmness and Peace. I love you each and every moment. Kia kaha.

Anonymous said...

Oh my -powerful sweet post...and the mom thing - so hard.

miami lakes kia said...

I like your hospitality!
Kia Sunrise