Homesick For People

My Mom and I at Hill Pool, Medicine Hat, Alberta in August 2017.

This photo wasn’t taken on any special day, it was just 4 years ago, almost to the day.

Outdoor Swimming every summer was a ritual my family had established from the first summer after we had moved to Medicine Hat. I had been living in the U.K. for 5 years when this pictures was taken. I had come home and a lot had happened in those 5 years. But I knew I could count on my mom making me go swimming in one of the outdoor pools.

Somehow the ritual of swimming daily outdoors and getting lost in the rhythm of swimming 1000+ meters of front crawl was just what I needed at the time. And it’s probably why I have such an affinity to water as the cure all for my problems.

But since my mom died “home” hasn’t been the same, and I haven’t thought of Medicine Hat of “home” since.

“Home” has gradually become a different place, a place I least expected. Over the last 5 years Morocco has become HOME. Taghazout Bay has become HOME. Not necessarily because the ocean is always within view (though that certainly has helped), but because I have found my chosen family there.

No matter how long my “visits” to Morocco are, they are never long enough. I know I have been lucky to spend the last 8 months at home and with my chosen family, but I never wanted to leave. I was finding every excuse under the sun to stay: hopefully my PCR test is positive, maybe the bus will break down, maybe my flight will be cancelled… etc.

I thought I knew what homesickness was when I moved to the U.K. from Canada. But this is a new kind of homesickness I wasn’t prepared for: It’s a weird mix of missing my mom and missing my husband.

I’m sure I’ll be back home soon: the 90 day increments always flew by when I was in Morocco, they’ll be able to fly by in England too.