I used to live in Virginia.  Back in 2006, Mom got very sick and my grandma, my mom’s mom, told us to move in with her so she could help us.  I lived there for four years and, even though I was unhappy and angry and other synonymous adjectives, it was where I changed.  I “grew up” in Michigan because I had lived there for fifteen years, but Virginia was where I grew.

I discovered Christian music there.  I had been listening to ZOEgirl, BarlowGirl, Newsboys, and Sonicflood, but that wasn’t quite hitting the part inside of me that I needed it to.  I remember listening to the radio and finding SpiritFM, and falling in love with every song on that station.  When Mom found a Christian music store, I went in there and bought CD after CD, craving this new-found feeling of relaxation.  That’s when I stopped listening to mainstream music.  It didn’t do anything for me, not like Christian.  I found a relationship and truth and freedom in those songs on that station, laying in bed in that small room downstairs.  Sitting in the dark with the radio on, letting it sing me into awakening, realizing that for 15 years I had not known the God I had accepted into my life, not like He wanted me to know Him.

That is also where I began writing songs.  Poems, mostly, since I had no idea how to construct any foundation for the depression and anger I had.  I say songs because I had a melody, but no one to sing it to.  I wrote to God, and not for Him.  I wrote to “friends,” feelings, thoughts, places, anything that was around me.  That is how I coped for those four years.

And now, I am going back.  If you don’t already know, here’s the low down:

My grandma is not doing well.  She can’t talk very well, she has nightmares, she is forgetting what day it is.  She is just a mess.  My mom took a week off, so we are headed back to that house to see how she is.  The plan is, if she’s not doing well and she wants/needs us to come back, we’re moving back there in March/April.  For as long as she is alive, basically.  Now, let’s say she doesn’t want us to come back.  We’re still moving, but we’re staying here, in Tennessee.

How do I feel about this?

It’s a very logical question, and honestly, I have been struggling with the answer.  On the one hand, I want to go back.  It’s peaceful, it’s out in the middle of nowhere, I can be alone with my thoughts without any outside noises.  Ah, no cityness (my blog, my words).  I would love to walk down to the water and just sit there and watch it.  I would love to look at the mountains on a clear, beautiful day, I would love to stay up all night and watch the sunrise and see the colors.  I want to sit in the little room in the basement and put my keyboard and radio in there and listen to the radio all day and all night and just write.  I want to write and not have to worry about hurrying up and leaving to go up to the store or go to work.  I want silence.  I want to be alone.

On the other hand, I don’t want to leave.  I don’t want to move again.  Not knowing if…well, when, I’ll be back.  Tennessee is my home.  If I can find a quiet spot here like in Virginia with not a lot of people around and no distractions.  If I could not live in an apartment anymore, I believe, I would feel that same way here that I do in Grandma’s house.  It’s a house.  I can settle down there.  I feel relaxed and at ease and at home.

I want to go back and feel that.

I don’t want to leave here.

This is my struggle.  This is my battle right now.

Next week is going to decide my future.  And God has it in His hands.  He has all of it in His hands.  He knows what is going to happen, and it is going to be best for my life.  For our lives.

I know I’ll be doing a lot of writing this next week.  Her house just does that to me.  Sleeping, I hope to do a lot of that too.  Depending on the weather, maybe I’ll walk, or run, or just exercise.

I’m excited, nonetheless.  I haven’t seen Grandma in two years, so it will be nice to see her.  I’m so excited to see Virginia.

I want to move back.

I don’t want to leave.

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