Imperfect Catholic Mama

Wherever a plant is planted, it will grow, establishing roots as it does so. Taking in the good from it’s surrounding, drinking in the moisture and water it receives. All of this leads the plant to growing more roots, and strengthens the ones it has. Sometimes though we need to transplant plants. And when you transplant them, no matter how hard you try, you will inevitably leave behind some roots; even if they are just very small. Unless we neglect the plant horrendously, it will establish roots. And no matter what we do, when you transplant a plant, you can’t possibly get all the roots, you’re inevitably going to leave some tiny ones, and maybe even bigger ones, behind. 

Then there will be a period where your plant may not thrive, it may struggle to settle into the new place. It may need a little extra tender loving care, or maybe it just needs time to reestablish roots and find all the nutrients and water it needs in this new place. 

I feel this is a perfect analogy for the last week of my life. We moved our little family halfway across the country. We left the place where my husband and I met, fell in love, got engaged, married, and had our first two children. We left the home, and couch where my son was born, forever behind.

When we live in a place, we establish roots, simply by living there. The experiences we have, the people we meet, the things we do and places we go, all contributes to the life we live. And living life establishes roots. Without taking the plant analogy too far or thinking about it to the point of frustration, we get planted in a place, our experiences there help us to grow, and growing involves putting roots down and reaching them out farther and deeper. 

But then we move.

We uproot ourselves and put ourselves down somewhere else. 

And we left some of our roots behind.

We couldn’t walk away from our place without leaving a bit of ourselves behind. They may just have been micro pieces of our lives, memories which we will forever cherish, but they are still roots. In moving from one place to another, transplanting ourselves, we left a bit of ourselves behind. And that’s okay.

It’s hard. It’s very hard. And we need to be so loving and gracious as we give ourselves time and space to grieve what is gone and wait to feel at home in this new place. But just because it is hard doesn’t mean it’s not good. 

My husband and I feel no regrets about moving, about leaving our home. No regrets does not mean it’s easy though. 

This move has reminded me just how much you can feel two, seemingly conflicted things, at once. The hardship of moving, not wanting to leave your home, the goods that you have, yet simultaneously wanting the goods that the move will bring.

Being sad about what I am losing does not negate my thankfulness for being 5 minutes away from the support which family offers. Missing the itty bitty apartment where I’ve grown into a mother for the last two years and birthed my son, does not negate how nice it is to have more space. Longing for the river walk and my daughter’s favourite park does not negate how wonderful it is to have a backyard.

Two feelings can be true at once. And when I’m grieving a loss, I don’t need to chase that away with “but you have ‘x’ now!” This isn’t being ungrateful, this is simply letting the feelings I’m feeling be felt. I can just be sad about the loss of a good. 

Which brings me to my last little thought from this move: We didn’t choose between a good thing and a bad thing. That would have been easy. We chose between two goods; and that’s hard. The hardest decisions in life are not between the right and wrong, they are between two, or more, good things. We can weigh the different goods, ultimately choosing which one is better, but that’s going to be subjective. For us, being close to family, even though it meant leaving our wonderful small town and strong, supportive community, was a greater good. For someone else that might not be the case though. 

And in the end it came down to what we wanted. Not just what we “felt was right”. Yes, we prayer about the decision we made. We weighed the pros and cons. But in the end, we desired to be close to family. So that’s what we did. 

I know I for one can often get caught up in the anxiety of “what does God want me to do? What’s the ‘right’ thing?” But really, maybe it just comes down to what we want.  Trusting God to guide us through our desires (with the help of doctrinal teaching, which guides us away from sin and towards virtue), and acting on that. 

The last week has been one of the longest of my life. We didn’t even leave our home behind a week ago, but it feels like forever. I miss the quiet town, my friends, the small town grocery store where I recognize all the employees and they recognize me, and the list is rather endless. I know the day will come when I feel at home here. But that’s not today. And that’s hard. 

So how do I cope? 

I write. 

Sometimes I just keep busy, doing what needs to be done.

I spend time with my family, enjoying the things this new place has to offer, like Cider Mills where I get to watch my toddler enjoy the petting zoo and then we fill up on delicious cinnamon donuts and apple cider. 

I enjoy the goods we have: Grandparents to help with kids, added date nights with my husband, more space, a backyard. 

But most of all, I need to continually give myself time and space to feel the hard feelings I need to feel. Sometimes that involves talking with my husband, it could be writing, drawing a picture, talking with my toddler about the old house. It’s discovering old rituals for processing emotions and making new ones in a new place.

Going for a quiet walk around the block is no longer an option I have at my disposal to give myself space (I can do a there and back walk, but we don’t have blocks on our street. Haha). It was my go-to less then a week ago when I needed some time to breathe and reset, but now I need to find something else. Even if it’s a different walk. 

Above all though, there is very little I can do, and it is just going to take time. The roots that were torn need to heal. The large roots need to re-establish themselves. And the ones that were left behind just need to be mourned and replaced. Over time the little plant of our family will thrive and feel at home again.

Featured Photo by Antoni Shkraba: https://www.pexels.com/photo/hands-holding-soil-with-plant-7342598/