Finding Myself on Maple Lake

In April of 2011, just 7 weeks after the birth of our son, we moved to Maple Lake.  Purchasing this house and property had been a dream of my husband's for many years.  His grandparents had decided it was time to move into a smaller home, but also wanted to keep the property in the family.  So, we bought the farm, so to speak.

I completely understood his drive to be here.  My own grandparents moved to Parry Sound from Ahmic Lake, Magnetewan.  If I had been in a position to buy that property, I would have.  My best childhood memories are from Ahmic Lake.  I knew where my husband was coming from and how important it was to him.

How could I say no?

We decided to move after the baby was born, and put the house on the market.  It sold within three days.  Everything was falling in to place and it all seemed perfect.

I had my reservations about the move and about the house, and I spoke up about them.  We talked them through, or so I thought.  To be honest I think I ignored my gut instinct throughout the whole process.  My gut instinct usually tells me everything I need to know. 

Yes, I wanted it.  But more, I wanted to be able to do this for my husband.  To do it for my 25 year old self who hadn't been able to do the same.

We moved Easter weekend.  I am going to leave out all the nitty-gritty details, but in short, I wasn't happy.  I sucked it all up and powered through the day with the help of my grandparents who arrived like a cavalry, bringing cookies and shoulders to cry on.  In their usual fashion, they got straight down to business, cleaning cupboards and unpacking boxes. I am forever grateful to them for shining some light on my situation that day.

The next morning my reality slammed into me like a brick wall.  Hard.  I felt alone, overwhelmed and unbearably sad.  MISTAKE screamed and echoed in my head.

I felt that we'd left our first home without much thought because we were so enthusiastic about the move.

I felt so incredibly stupid.  I can't express that strongly enough.  I'd visited this house for ten years.  I knew the issues.  I understood where I was moving to.  I had been on board every step of the way.  I'd been open about my hesitations.  Worked through them.

But still.  I was not happy.  Many, many tears were shed.  I felt like I was crushing my husband.  It killed me to see the disappointment and pain in his eyes.  More than anything, he wanted to make me happy, too.

I spent the spring, summer and fall guarding against and pushing away loneliness and sadness that crept up and struck with no warning.  I would find myself standing in my driveway overcome with tears, feeling pulled in a myriad of directions.  I was homesick and missed so much about a place that I really did want to leave.  It was perplexing.

Slowly, slowly my days started to improve.  Bad days became fewer and less intense.  I talked.  I shared all of my negative thoughts and feelings with my husband who was ever patient.  Make jokes about my situation.  Started to like some things about being here.  The quiet, the space, the beauty just outside my door.  The scales were tipping.

Now winter has arrived and I can honestly say that there are things about living here that I love.  The tress covered in new snow.  Perfect sunrises over the lake.  Privacy.  Wide open spaces. 

I spent three seasons feeling un-anchored, having a house but no home.  I  know now that home is wherever my love is.  My son.  My husband.  And really, that's what brought me around.  I still have days where I stop and think "How on earth did this happen?", but in my gut I know my home is here.  Maple Lake.