Sunday, January 2, 2011

"Prodigal Daughter"

That's Bill's line. I'm using it for my blog, I hope he doesn't mind. Let's see if I can explain it.

When I went away to college, I knew I would go somewhere far away. I always thought I would like to end up on the east coast, around Boston. Instead I went south to Savannah which was gorgeous (minus the gnats, heat and humidity). Of course we're used to humidity around here, but add that heat and it's unbearable. There is a reason I live in Michigan and love it. Back to school; I would only come home on breaks which were Thanksgiving through New Year's, spring break (which was always during St. Patrick's Day) and summer break. Then I met Bill and we got married. We lived in Southgate, Michigan for just over a year. Right after September 11, 2001 we moved (back) to Savannah, Georgia. We lived there for just about thirteen months before moving to Ocean Grove, New Jersey. From there we moved to Toms River, NJ. Through all of these moves, we took any vacation time we had to visit our parents or to "come back" for weddings. Bill was absent for a couple of those, due to his chained-to-retail job (that means few to no weekends off). So through all of this I was not able to visit with friends "back home" as much as I would have wanted. Then we moved to Grand Rapids, Michigan. I've mentioned several times how much I love it here. It feels like home. I am very happy, and I just love all that there is to do here. I really enjoy this town.

This also means that we are closer to my family. A drive from our door to my parents door is four hours. We don't have children so we only have to stop once, if that. I have probably been to see my parents at least once every other month since we have moved back. (yes, to my friends who live there; if you are reading this, I haven't let you know every time I've been in town. I'm just that popular!)

This brings me to my blog title. I get that the people at the church in which I grew up have missed me. For a long time (four years of college plus six years living out of state) I wasn't around and I wasn't in church with my parents every Sunday. When I was there, visiting, it was a big deal. Mom would ask for prayers for safe travel the Sunday before we came. Everyone would welcome me (or us as the case may be) and it was nice. I could feel the love. In fact, so much so that I had a melt-down the first Christmas Eve we spent in Toms River. Not because I wasn't with my family, but because it wasn't the tradition I was used to and I missed it.

So, being that I go down there now at least every other month (or the average equals that) you would think that people at that church would get tired of seeing me. Oh no. In fact, each time I show up it's like I've been gone forever. I know that many of the members who remember me from when I was a little girl are getting pretty old. But do they have to act like they haven't seen me in years? What am I supposed to say?

It happened today. The last time we were there for church was in September. Okay, fine. That's been awhile. But the time before that? This summer. Twice. And then last spring. I'm there at least four times a year. Yet I had several people who came up to me this morning and greeted me like they hadn't seen me in ten years. The one woman (whose mind really is going) said, "Is this who I think it is???" I looked at my mom, as if to say, "well, who does she think I am?" and someone else broke the ice by saying, "If you think it's her daughter, you're right!" He was being silly. He's seen me and remembers me. She remembered me, but not that I had been there recently. How am I supposed to react? I just don't know anymore.

At the end of the service I saw a friend. Her brother was a year behind me in high school and she was three years behind me. She said, "Weren't you just here?" I laughed and told her she was my new hero. She not only remembers that I was there recently, but she didn't make me feel like I don't come there enough. Don't get me wrong, I love that church family and I enjoy seeing them when I'm there. But please, remember that I don't live that far away anymore and I am actually in town quite a bit more than before. Not every Sunday. But isn't every two months enough? It's like I can't cut that umbilical cord... If they ever give me a coat or a feast, maybe I'd understand.

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